https://www.blackgate.com/

It’s an early A (Black) Gat in the Hand, as I got my Pulp on week before last, at Windy City, in Chicago.

I managed to resist the impulse to grab the microphone in the Dealers Room and proclaim, “Finally….The Bob…has come back…to Windy City.” A little classic Rock for you there. And in not doing so, I wasn’t evicted and had a great time.

Doug Ellis puts on the Windy City Pulp and Paper Convention annually at the Lombard Westin, in the suburb an hour west of Chicago. I last attended in 2019. Of course, COVID hit in 2020, along with some other life changes. I made it to my first Howard Days in 2022, and headed over to Pittsburgh the last two years for Pulp Fest. Windy City just didn’t quite happen. But I made sure it did in 2025.

There’s an auction, some panels, an art show, and a massive Dealer Room. I’ll share my purchases here in a minute. But hands down, the best part of Windy City for me, is hanging and chatting with people. I see lots of online friends and some folks I’ve met before. I even make new friends. Sort of.

Walking around the Dealer Room and getting into conversations on pulp or paperback favorites is a blast. I find somebody to chat Nero Wolfe, or Jo Gar, or Solar Pons, or Solomon Kane, or Bail Bond Dodd, or…you get the idea. I found myself showing my Civil War shelfie to someone, as they talked about Shelby Foote.

There are always folks sitting around the lobby. I’ve met new friends just sitting down and working into the conversation. Saturday night, Ryan Harvey, Chris Hocking, James Enge, and I, spent over two hours just riffing through movies and writers. Ryan’s knowledge of multiple movie genres is staggering. And what those three knew about movie soundtracks left me soaking it in.

Add in eating a couple meals with friends, and the social aspect of Windy City is hands down my favorite part. As you’ll see, I find things to buy – and I restrain myself every year – but it’s talking about mutual interests at Windy City that is the highlight for me. Glad I made it back. See you there in 2026?  Between the ever-present LA Dodgers cab, and a shirt with ‘Byrne’s Pub’ writ large on the back, I’m easy to spot.

What Did I Buy?

Max Latin!

You may (or may not) know, I wrote the introduction to Steeger Books’ reissue of the collected Max Latin short stories. Norbert Davis is on my Hardboiled Mt. Rushmore, and the shady private eye Latin, is my favorite work of his. The fact that my intro replaced the last professional piece written by my favorite writer, John D. MacDonald, is awesome. You can read my intro, here at Black Gate.

For $70, I got the May 1942 issue of Dime Detective, containing “Give the Devil His Due.” This was the fifth Latin story, and I am now the proud owner of an original Latin story. There’s also a Marquis of Broadway by John Lawrence in this issue.

Gotta Have Some Howard! Will Oliver on the left. I think Security was trying to find the guy on the right, most of the show. Wait, that’s John Bullard. I stand by what I said…

I resisted the impulse to bring home a haul of Robert E. Howard-related books. It’s easy to find more cool stuff to add to my library – even if I already have the stories included. But Robert E. Howard Foundation folks. Bill Cavalier, Paul Herman, and John Bullard were there. And breakfast with John and Paul was a conversational potpourri I won’t soon forget!

Held every June in REH’s hometown of Cross Plain, TX, Howard Days is a terrific gathering of Howard fans from all over the world. I wish I’d been into Howard back when I lived in Austin. Highly recommended weekend.

I met Will Oliver, a really cool guy (when you’re as cool as I am, you are drawn to other cool people. Yeah…) when I was down there. Will just put out an extensively referenced, door-stopper of a biography of Howard. I grabbed a copy directly from Will at the table, which he kindly signed. I am looking forward to digging into this and probably talking about it during this summer’s run of A (Black) Gat in the Hand.

Cool & Lam

I’ve written about my favorite Erle Stanley Gardner series many times here at Black Gate. But it’s not Perry Mason. I like the do-it-all lawyer, but the mismatched duo of Bertha Cool and Donald Lam easily hold my ESG top spot. You can find all of my Cool and Lam posts here, including the ‘lost’ pilot, with an intro by Gardner himself.

I don’t have quite all the books, and many are falling apart. As in, I’ve had to toss a couple. Those old Dell paperbacks get extremely brittle. I was happy to pick up two replacement copies at just $5 each. If you haven’t read Cool and Lam, you’re missing out on some high quality PI fiction. At least check out my first post on them, which is based on essay I wrote for Black Mask magazine (yeah, I appeared in THE Black Mask!).

The Frederick Nebel Library Grows

So, Norbert Davis’s is the third face on my Hardboiled Mt. Rushmore. Frederick Nebel is number two. Nebel was the guy that Joe ‘Cap’ Shaw tapped to slide into Dashiell Hammett’s place when the latter left Black Mask (and the Pulps). My library has a lot of Nebel from Steeger Books, including Cardigan, MacBride and Kennedy, and the under-appreciated Gales & McGill.

I already had a couple of Nebel’s air adventures from Illinois’ Black Dog Books. But when I saw Tom Roberts with a table at Windy City, I couldn’t resist. I picked up Sky Blazers, plus the three books along the bottom. Also, three more non-Nebels. I have a couple other digital books from Black Dog. Tom is putting out terrific Pulp by a lot of authors who deserve to still be read. And he has some great intros (I’m still trying to con him… I mean, convince him, to let me write one). I’m a fan of Black Dog, and you should check them out.

 

Sky Blazers/Wolves of the Wind/Flying Freebooters

I’m not into the Air Pulp genre – in fact, I can’t really even discuss it knowledgeably (like THAT ever stops me, as you well know). But I really enjoy Nebel’s Gales & McGill series, just about all of which appeared in Air Stories, I believe.

I now own all six Nebel books from Black Dog. The top three are all air stories, a few with recurring characters. Nebel and Horace McCoy are the only Air Pulps writers I read, and I’m looking forward to more Nebel.

 

Flame Island and Empire of the Devil are short story collections of exotic tales from the Adventure Pulps. This is another genre I haven’t read much, but with over 600 pages of Nebel, I’ll be working my way through these. Two of the stories were made into films.

 

Forbidden River – Nebel started out writing Canadian adventures – you know, Mounties and trappers. Forbidden River contains five such stories. Steeger has also put out two collections of these. Nebel was writing Northern adventures when he joined Black Mask.

Roger Torrey

I have the excellent short story collection, Bodyguard, in digital. I couldn’t pass up a second Torrey book: this time in print. Torrey wrote in a straight hardboiled style, and he didn’t change at all as the genre moved more towards the Cornell Woolrich or John D. MacDonald style of mysteries. He was also a major alcoholic and became unreliable and of quite variable quality. He died young, still writing for the ‘lesser’ pulps. But when he was good, he was very good, and I’m a Torrey fan.

Norvell Page

Page is best known as the primary writer of the hero Pulp, The Spider (under the house name, Grant Stockbridge). Like most Pulpsters, he wrote many genres, including weird menace, and G-men stories. I have his limited Western output as a Black Dog e-book.

I really struggle with the Spicy Pulps. Briefly a popular genre, they’re just so goofy I can’t take them seriously enough to enjoy them. I wrote a post on a Robert E. Howard spicy story – and it was more of a saucy-tinged adventure. Whereas, I can’t even finish a Dan Turner (Hollywood Detective) story

in one -sitting.

Robert Leslie Bellem’s Turner is the most popular of the spicy detectives, even getting his own magazine. But to me, it’s like a parody of Race Williams. And Williams can be hard enough to absorb, without making it a spicy parody.

Page wrote a series of spicy stories featuring Bill Carter (who is not his Weird Menace star, Ken Carter), an investigative reporter in Miami. This volume collects (all?) twenty of them. Page is still kinda over-the-top for me, but these are FAR more readable than the Dan Turner stories. I’ll work my way through this book.

Norbert Davis’ Westerns

I already had this in digital, but I couldn’t pass up the print edition. Davis didn’t write many Westerns, but he wrote some damn good ones. I already did this Black Gate post on one of my favorites, “A Gunsmoke Case for Major Cain.” I plan on covering a couple more for the summer Pulp series along the way. I really like his Westerns.

MISC

I also picked up a Dell Mapback of Rex Stout’s Tecumseh Fox mystery, Double for Death. I like Mapbacks, and try to pick up one or two when they aren’t too expensive. I got a few Stouts last year at Pulp Fest.

Also, you should definitely attend Windy City next year if you want to play ‘If Bob Were Here.’ To hear something I said repeated back conversationally with “If Bob were here, I bet he would say…” I’m used to being ragged on. To combine it with being ignored is really impressive!

The Art Room

I snapped a few pics of the really cool stuff in the Art Show, but I wish I had been dialed in for it. I would have gotten a lot. The Mark Wheatley, and Gary Gianni stuff, had most of my attention. But there was some neat REH and Edger Rice Burroughs stuff too.

I like this El Borak print by Jim and Ruth Keegan, from the Wandering Star/Del Rey books. There was a cool Solomon Kane pic by Gianni. There was a statue in front of it which it mirrors. I wish I’d taken a close up of it. I will be more focused when I visit the Art Room next time.

Gary Gianni was selling five prints for $30 – signed, at a table. I snagged them! There were four Solomon Kanes – color, and black and white. Also, one larger sized Conan from “A Witch Shall Be Born.”

He chatted with folks and is a super nice guy. I’m friends with Bill Cavalier (well, I don’t think he refutes that statement, anyways) and have met Mark Wheatley and Mark Schulz at Pulp Fest. Robert E. Howard artists have been really nice folks.

 

THE HOWARD ANDREW JONES PANEL

A lot of Howard’s friends and fans were at Windy City. There was a panel to remember and celebrate Howard, curated by his biggest fan and supporter, Arin Komins. John O’Neill, James Enge, Seth Lindberg, and John Hocking shared thoughts and memories. Audience members were also offered the opportunity to speak, and Howard’s fellow Black Gaters Ryan Harvey, Greg Mele, and myself, spoke fondly of our missed friend.

Kudos to Doug Ellis for setting aside time for Howard to be front and center. Mentions of him were peppered throughout the weekend among the Black Gate and associated crowd. We will be fondly remembering him for a long time to come.

One audience member came up and talked about helping when Howard was putting together the Harold Lamb collections. And he revealed there were some Lamb stories (four, maybe?) that they didn’t have the rights to, and I think Howard had edited those as well. Would be need to see those added to Howard’s Lamb work.

Jason Waltz – you can believe I took Arin and company to task as they were setting up the books, and there was no Hither Came Conan!

 

 

Prior Posts in A (Black) Gat in the Hand 

2025 (1)

Shelfie – Dashiell Hammett

2024 Series (11)

Will Murray on Dashiell Hammett’s Elusive Glass Key
Ya Gotta Ask – Reprise
Rex Stout’s “The Mother of Invention”
Dime Detective, August, 1941
John D. MacDonald’s “Ring Around the Readhead”
Harboiled Manila – Raoul Whitfield’s Jo Gar
7 Upcoming A (Black) Gat in the Hand Attractions
Paul Cain’s Fast One (my intro)
Dashiell Hammett – The Girl with the Silver Eyes (my intro)
Richard Demming’s Manville Moon
More Thrilling Adventures from REH

Prior Posts in A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2023 Series (15)

Back Down those Mean Streets in 2023
Will Murray on Hammett Didn’t Write “The Diamond Wager”
Dashiell Hammett – ZigZags of Treachery (my intro)
Ten Pulp Things I Think I Think
Evan Lewis on Cleve Adams
T,T, Flynn’s Mike & Trixie (The ‘Lost Intro’)
John Bullard on REH’s Rough and Ready Clowns of the West – Part I (Breckenridge Elkins)
John Bullard on REH’s Rough and Ready Clowns of the West – Part II
William Patrick Murray on Supernatural Westerns, and Crossing Genres
Erle Stanley Gardner’s ‘Getting Away With Murder (And ‘A Black (Gat)’ turns 100!)
James Reasoner on Robert E. Howard’s Trail Towns of the old West
Frank Schildiner on Solomon Kane
Paul Bishop on The Fists of Robert E. Howard
John Lawrence’s Cass Blue
Dave Hardy on REH’s El Borak

Prior posts in A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2022 Series (16)
Asimov – Sci Fi Meets the Police Procedural
The Adventures of Christopher London
Weird Menace from Robert E. Howard
Spicy Adventures from Robert E. Howard
Thrilling Adventures from Robert E. Howard
Norbert Davis’ “The Gin Monkey”
Tracer Bullet
Shovel’s Painful Predicament
Back Porch Pulp #1
Wally Conger on ‘The Hollywood Troubleshooter Saga’
Arsenic and Old Lace
David Dodge
Glen Cook’s Garrett, PI
John Leslie’s Key West Private Eye
Back Porch Pulp #2
Norbert Davis’ Max Latin

Prior posts in A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2021 Series (7 )

The Forgotten Black Masker – Norbert Davis
Appaloosa
A (Black) Gat in the Hand is Back!
Black Mask – March, 1932
Three Gun Terry Mack & Carroll John Daly
Bounty Hunters & Bail Bondsmen
Norbert Davis in Black Mask – Volume 1

Prior posts in A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2020 Series (21)
Hardboiled May on TCM
Some Hardboiled streaming options
Johnny O’Clock (Dick Powell)
Hardboiled June on TCM
Bullets or Ballots (Humphrey Bogart)
Phililp Marlowe – Private Eye (Powers Boothe)
Cool and Lam
All Through the Night (Bogart)
Dick Powell as Yours Truly, Johnny Dollar
Hardboiled July on TCM
YTJD – The Emily Braddock Matter (John Lund)
Richard Diamond – The Betty Moran Case (Dick Powell)
Bold Venture (Bogart & Bacall)
Hardboiled August on TCM
Norbert Davis – ‘Have one on the House’
with Steven H Silver: C.M. Kornbluth’s Pulp
Norbert Davis – ‘Don’t You Cry for Me’
Talking About Philip Marlowe
Steven H Silver Asks you to Name This Movie
Cajun Hardboiled – Dave Robicheaux
More Cool & Lam from Hard Case Crime

A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2019 Series (15)
Back Deck Pulp Returns
A (Black) Gat in the Hand Returns
Will Murray on Doc Savage
Hugh B. Cave’s Peter Kane
Paul Bishop on Lance Spearman
A Man Called Spade
Hard Boiled Holmes
Duane Spurlock on T.T. Flynn
Andrew Salmon on Montreal Noir
Frank Schildiner on The Bad Guys of Pulp
Steve Scott on John D. MacDonald’s ‘Park Falkner’
William Patrick Murray on The Spider
John D. MacDonald & Mickey Spillane
Norbert Davis goes West(ern)
Bill Crider on The Brass Cupcake

A (Black) Gat in the Hand – 2018 Series (32)
George Harmon Coxe
Raoul Whitfield
Some Hard Boiled Anthologies
Frederick Nebel’s Donahue
Thomas Walsh
Black Mask – January, 1935
Norbert Davis’ Ben Shaley
D.L. Champion’s Rex Sackler
Dime Detective – August, 1939
Back Deck Pulp #1
W.T. Ballard’s Bill Lennox
Erle Stanley Gardner’s The Phantom Crook (Ed Jenkins)
Day Keene
Black Mask – October, 1933
Back Deck Pulp #2
Black Mask – Spring, 2017
Erle Stanley Gardner’s ‘The Shrieking Skeleton’
Frank Schildiner’s ‘Max Allen Collins & The Hard Boiled Hero’
A (Black) Gat in the Hand: William Campbell Gault
A (Black) Gat in the Hand: More Cool & Lam From Hard Case Crime
MORE Cool & Lam!!!!
Thomas Parker’s ‘They Shoot Horses, Don’t They?’
Joe Bonadonna’s ‘Hardboiled Film Noir’ (Part One)
Joe Bonadonna’s ‘Hardboiled Film Noir’ (Part Two)
William Patrick Maynard’s ‘The Yellow Peril’
Andrew P Salmon’s ‘Frederick C. Davis’
Rory Gallagher’s ‘Continental Op’
Back Deck Pulp #3
Back Deck Pulp #4
Back Deck Pulp #5
Joe ‘Cap’ Shaw on Writing
Back Deck Pulp #6
The Black Mask Dinner

Bob Byrne’s ‘A (Black) Gat in the Hand’ made its Black Gate debut in 2018 and has returned every summer since.

His ‘The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes’ column ran every Monday morning at Black Gate from March, 2014 through March, 2017. And he irregularly posts on Rex Stout’s gargantuan detective in ‘Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone.’ He is a member of the Praed Street Irregulars, founded www.SolarPons.com (the only website dedicated to the ‘Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street’).

He organized Black Gate’s award-nominated ‘Discovering Robert E. Howard’ series, as well as the award-winning ‘Hither Came Conan’ series. Which is now part of THE Definitive guide to Conan. He also organized 2023’s ‘Talking Tolkien.’

He has contributed stories to The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories — Parts III, IV, V, VI, XXI, and XXXIII.

He has written introductions for Steeger Books, and appeared in several magazines, including Black Mask, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, The Strand Magazine, and Sherlock Magazine.

You can definitely ‘experience the Bobness’ at Jason Waltz’s ’24? in 42′ podcast.

Mirrored Heavens by Rebecca Roanhorse (Saga Press, June 4, 2024)

Between Earth & Sky has always been about doing something fresh.

Rebecca Roanhorse set out to create an epic fantasy set in a world based on the pre-contact Americas. It has its Maya, Cahokia, Ancestral Puebloan and Woodlands analog cultures; it has a seafaring matriarchy that is a bit Polynesian, a bit Caribbean, a bit “this would be cool.” But the world of The Meridian is its own thing. At times the technology is greater than what existed in our world, it has giant crows, eagles, insects and winged serpents tamed as mounts and its gods are very real, and not particularly benevolent.

But if the world the author sets her fantasy is drawing from cultures underused in fantasy, the story-structure is unique as well. This is not a story of a rising dark lord and the plucky heroes that rise against him. Its villains are all-too-human, motivate by sometimes petty desires, sometimes misplaced love, and if there is a “Dark Lord”, well he is one of the most sympathetic characters in the entire tale.

None of this is inversion for inversion’s sake; it is about telling a compelling, fresh story that feels authentic to the sources that inspired its author, and now it has all come to an end with Mirrored Heavens.

Sticking a landing is always tricky and Roanhorse to some extent set herself a challenging task at the end of Book 2. The mid-book of a trilogy is always a bridge story of revelations and few resolutions, but in Fevered Star we only truly see into the villain’s mind — or even realize his full roll — in the last third of the book. Our two main pairs of heroes: Serapio and Xiala, Narampa and Ixtan, spend the novel separated while the fifth main hero, Okoa, is mostly haplessly dragged from bad decision to bad decision. Things end with the predictable “it’s even worse now”, but other than an epic, beautifully rendered clash between Serapio and Narampa, as respective avatars of the Crow and Sun, in some ways the stage feels unset for resolution in one volume.

That would all be true if Roanhorse was trying to write The Lords of the Rings, pre-Contact Americas style. But she isn’t, and her story isn’t triggered by plot, but by characters. If there is a reveal in Fevered Star it is that all of our main characters, even the villainous Balam, have been motivated by personal relationships, disappointments or love. For all the interplay of ancient gods and prophecies, the story is indeed about Serapio and Xiala, Narampa and Ixtan, Okoa and yes, even evil Balam. It’s about family and isolation, a desire to belong and be loved, or what happens when that instead turns into possessive control. Consequently, to borrow a line from the otherwise wretched The Last Jedi: This isn’t going to go how you think it will.

Reading the above, one might think this is a very literary, slow book. It is not. From the first page there is assassination attempts, blood magic, scary monsters and marching armies. As with the first two volumes, Roanhorse’s prose is tight, sometimes even clipped, and her pages fly by. The summary of our situation: Serapio, now the Carrion King and ruler of Tova, is trying to cement his rule as the Crow clan’s living messiah, and knows that besides the other clans wishing to murder him, the rulership of his own clan has no love for being supplanted by living avatar.

All the other cities of the confederacy are marshalling against him, and he doesn’t even know that the villain behind it all is the man who sent him on his quest — and has been involved in his very creation from the start. He is presented with a prophecy, supposedly from the maw of the trickster god Coyote himself that says that if he slays his “unloved bride” and his father, he can win the three different wars brewing against him, but only by losing everything. What the hell does that mean, and how much further into dark, even cruel, paths will Serapio descend to fulfill it. Indeed — is he even the “good guy” and what is he trying to win?

Okoa, as brother to the Carrion Crow matron, has come to respect and idolize Serapio, but like everyone — fears him. His sister reveals the other clan matrons have learned of a weapon that can slay the Carrion King and demands Okoa’s help.

Narampa feels the power of the Sun growing in her and has fled to the north, to the Graveyard of the Gods — where it is said the gods made war and were “slain”/banished from the mortal world — seeking a shaman who can teach her how to use the mysterious godflesh mushrooms that will allow her to enter the various spirit worlds and fight to liberate her city from the Crow. Only she, too, does not realize Serapio is not the problem…

Ixtan is in the city of Hokaia, adrift and unsure what their path now is, until they learn that Narampa lives and that the southern lord Balam is at the heart of everything. A dangerous thing for a “Priest of Knives” to learn.

Xiala has returned home to the isles of the reclusive Teek. Her mother dead, she should be queen — a role she has run from. But Lord Balam’s agents have come to enslave the Teek, and somehow she has to save her people and find a way back to Serapio to warn him.

Seem like spoilers? That’s where we pick up and in a way that’s all you need to know. The rest of Mirrored Heavens is about how each of these players follows that path, and a revelation of how Lord Balam came to be bent on quest of the cities of the Meridian. The resolution will have blood magic, shadow worlds, a clash between gods, love and definite loss…and it won’t be what you think.

Now, confession: I came close to rating this to four stars because, with so much to resolve and tie up, it is only within the last 70 pages of a 600-page novel that it all starts to come into motion. The final clash is certainly dramatic, maybe almost too much — it feels very much like the final confrontation scene would expect in a Marvel movie, or at least an 80s adventure film. For all of the build-up, Serapio and Narampa are not fated to meet again and, indeed, many characters here fail to understand their role in the story, or make choices that lead to worse, not better, and never do recover from it.

A key to victory comes from an idea introduced about five pages before it is used, which felt contrived. Finally, the more we learn of Lord Balam’s backstory, the less competent he seems, and more like the real-world’s over-privileged billionaires who are interfering in the modern world simply because they can, they have the resources to bully their way in, and because they don’t like being told no. It all felt a bit rushed, and not always fair to the characters we’d been running with for 1600 pages.

Then I read the two final chapters, that serve as epilogues.

As I said at the start of this review, Rebecca Roanhorse isn’t trying to write a “Native American Lord of the Rings“, she is telling her own tale, and when you get to the end it all clicks. Besides tying every loose end, the other choices: a somewhat tragic, almost pointless, death of a main character; the fact that an assassin not only gets away with it, but parleys their actions into more power; the fact that some of the great heroism of a character is never known or understood — yes, that’s how the world works in politics and in war.

The gods are real, yet their ultimate appearance remains vague, unclear, and seemingly uncaring of mortal cost because they are gods — not mortals writ large. There is nothing of the Classical or Judeo-Christian belief to these deities; they are primal and simply are — once they act, mortals are left to reason for themselves what it all means. Scenes that occur off-stage do so because they really tell us nothing about the interplay of the core characters, and that’s what this story has always been about: a small group of players caught in the center of a revenge decades in the making.

Could the end have been a bit longer? Perhaps. Do I still think Lord Balam never really quite works as the chief villain? Somewhat. Is the “secret weapon” introduced just before it is needed… needed. No. But in the end, that doesn’t matter: Mirrored Heavens is ultimately about people and in telling that story, Roanhorse creates a magic and adventure-filled conclusion to one of the freshest epic fantasies I’ve read in years. I am already missing Serapio, Xiala, Ixtan and the rest, and although the story of The Meridian seems complete, Roanhorse mentions a distant western Empire of the Boundless Seas and other lands I’d eagerly visit.

(You can read my review of volume one here: Neverwhens, Where History and Fantasy Collide: Brilliance Gleams Beneath a Black Sun.)

How to Make a Monster ( American International Pictures, July 1, 1958)

50 films that I dug up on Tubi.

Enjoy!

How to Make a Monster – 1958, AIP

As a slight deviation from our usual programming of themed lists, here are the results of a deep dive I recently undertook, pushing Tubi to the limits. So here we are with How to make a Monster, a follow-up of sorts to the two spectacular schlock movies, I Was a Teenage Frankenstein and I Was a Teenage Werewolf, both released a year earlier in 1957 from American International Pictures. Monster double-billed with Teenage Caveman (which I previously reviewed when I was on my cave people kick), and is probably my favorite of the film series.

It isn’t your usual narrative, but rather a meta-tale of the studio itself, and I LOVE movies about making movies. In this one, Pete Dumond, the ‘Jack Pierce’ of his day, is the makeup wizard who designed and applied the prosthetics for the two previous films. When he discovers that the studio has been taken over by a company that isn’t interested in monster films, and is subsequently fired, Pete goes on a murderous rampage, only he doesn’t do the killing himself. Instead he brainwashes the young actors playing the monsters via a strange foundation cream (bear with me here) and coerces them to killing the new studio stooges while in full makeup.

Eventually, the cops figure out what is going on, and it all ends up in a rather bonkers and fiery final act. One of the great gimmicks employed here is the final reel being in full colour (a similar stunt was pulled on Teenage Frankenstein), and it’s quite jarring, but in a good way. Fun stuff!

7/10

Craze (Warner Bros, June 5, 1974) Craze (1974)

A strange little film from one of my favorite directors, Freddie Francis (who hated this one), Craze is based on the novel The Infernal Idol by Henry Seymour. It tells the story of an English antiques dealer who is wrapped up in black magic, and who worships a spooky African idol called Chuku. After a bloody alter, he begins to associate human sacrifices with financial gain (via Chuku), and promptly goes on a murderous spree to keep his idol happy.

Jack Palance is the most unconvincing Englishman ever put on film (until Keanu in Dracula), but he is ably supported by Julie Ege, Diana Dors and Trevor Howard. There are moments that echo the Amicus glory days, however it’s an uneven film, and the version I watched appeared to be edited for ghastliness.

Good if you’re planning a scary idol night.

5/10

The Fifth Floor (Film Ventures International, November 15, 1978)
and The Boneyard (Zia Film Distribution, June 12, 1991)

The Fifth Floor (1978)

Based on a true story, The Fifth Floor is about a young woman, Kelly (played by Diane Hull), who is accidentally poisoned at a disco and is taken to hospital. Her records indicate that she has tried to self harm before at age 15, so she is recommended for psychiatric assessment and care, leading to a three day stay at a facility. She soon runs afoul of a sleazy attendant, and her stay is increased to two-weeks, eventually being drawn out to 60 days. During this time she is abused, both mentally and sexually, and nobody believes her, especially her useless boyfriend.

It’s a pretty run of the mill movie, but the cast is the standout, and makes this an interesting watch. As with One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest, the patients are portrayed by some familiar faces, notably Robert Englund (fresh off telling his roommate to try auditioning for a space movie…), Anthony James (the villain in every TV show and film you ever watched), Earl Boen (who would go on to become a psychiatrist himself in the Terminator films), and Michael Berryman (of course).

The uncaring boss of the facility is played by Mel Ferrer, and the sleazy, abusive orderly is played by none other than Bo Hopkins. Julie Adams plays one of the nurses, so of course this Black Lagoon lover was very happy about that.

Not fun, but I didn’t hate it, which is high praise considering the films I seek out.

5/10

The Boneyard (1991)

Here’s an interesting one I hadn’t seen before, and when I say interesting, I mean a bit dull, then utterly barking mad.

Two years before The X-Files gave us Mulder and Scully, The Boneyard gave us Jersey Callum (Ed Nelson) and Alley Oates (Deborah Rose), a detective and psychic respectively, both at the end of their games and leaning against each other for support. A child murder case leads them both to a vast mortuary, run by Phyllis Diller (who totally over-Dillers every scene she’s in). Before you know it the child corpses turn out to be flesh-eating demons, and shenanigans ensue.

Yes, this one is painfully slow to get started, but once it does, it’s a lot of fun. The child demons are quite ghastly and really well made, and it’s a pity the same cannot be said for the two goofy monsters that crop up toward the end. James Cummings was a bit of a makeup legend before he tried his hand at directing, and it showed in the monsters — unfortunately the rest of his direction was really pedestrian.

There are some hilarious moments, some gooey moments, and a poodle moment that would make Ang Lee go off in his pants. Worth a look if you’re feeling brave.

6/10

Schizoid (The Cannon Group, September 5, 1980)
and Dark August (Howard Mahler Films, September 10, 1976)

Schizoid (1980)

Next up is this non-politically correctly titled slasher from the start of the best decade. Someone is stalking and murdering the members of a therapy group run by the terminally horny Dr. Fales (Kinski).

A newspaper columnist (Marianna Hill) is being sent threatening letters, and the cops (led by Richard Herd) don’t take them seriously. Her creepy ex-husband (Craig Wasson) is more concerned with getting the wallpaper up in his office (!), and Kinski shags everyone.

It’s fine, I guess, except the mystery killer is given away at the beginning. Oh, and Christopher Lloyd is in it, being all weird and sinister, so a bonus point there.

1/10

Dark August (1976)

Sal, an artist recently moved from NY to Vermont, doesn’t do a good job of fitting into his new rural life because he immediately runs over a young girl. It’s an accident, but the girl’s spooky grandfather doesn’t see it that way, and proceeds to voodoo Sal up the wazoo.

Creepy apparitions, bloody coughing and tummy aches ensue. It’s a bit slow, but there is a handful of inspired shots. Kim Hunter is in it as a committed medium, so that’s a bonus.

1/10

Baskin () Baskin (2015, Turkey)

Just five months after the US Thanksgiving celebrations, here is a delicious slice of Turkey, all wrapped up in one hell of a mind-bending horror film.

Baskin is a simple tale about a squad of police officers just mooching about, not doing much, when they get a call to a ‘disturbance’ in a dodgy part of town.

They answer the call, but crash their van along the way and end up at a big old house. The minute they go inside they are confronted by assorted ghastliness, and another officer banging his own head against a wall, and then it all goes rapidly downhill.

They find themselves quite literally in Hell surrounded by writhing masses of flesh and blood, and soon they are in the clutches of a cannibalistic cult, led by an enigmatic and terrifying figure. The sense of dread is astounding, and the film itself is gorgeous, albeit utterly horrific. Its surreal sensibilities put me in mind of Mandy (2018), and its overall sense of doom reminded me of Descent or Dog Soldiers. It’s a bit of a hard watch, and certainly not fun, but it’s worth a watch if you fancy something darker (and stickier) than molasses.

8/10

Previous Murkey Movie surveys from Neil Baker include:

What Possessed You?
Fan of the Cave Bear
There, Wolves
What a Croc
Prehistrionics
Jumping the Shark
Alien Overlords
Biggus Footus
I Like Big Bugs and I Cannot Lie
The Weird, Weird West
Warrior Women Watch-a-thon

Neil Baker’s last article for us was Part III of What Possessed You? Neil spends his days watching dodgy movies, most of them terrible, in the hope that you might be inspired to watch them too. He is often asked why he doesn’t watch ‘proper’ films, and he honestly doesn’t have a good answer. He is an author, illustrator, teacher, and sculptor of turtle exhibits. (AprilMoonBooks.com).

Meeting with Medusa cover by Vincent di Fate
Green Mars cover by Vincent di Fate

Tor Double #1 was originally published in October 1988.  This volume marked the beginning of the official Tor Double series. The two stories included, Arthur C. Clarke’s Meeting with Medusa and Kim Stanley Robinson’s novella Green Mars complement each other, although by doing so, Green Mars also points out a weakness of Meeting with Medusa. The volume was published as a tête-bêche, with both covers were painted by Vincent di Fate.

Meeting with Medusa was originally published in Playboy in December, 1971. It was nominated for the Hugo Award and Nebula Award, winning the latter, as well as the Seiun Award.

The novella opens with Captain Howard Falcon commanding a massive airship, the Queen Elizabeth IV, over the Grand Canyon. A collision with a drone camera causes the ship to crash, killing nearly everyone on-board, including the uplifted chimpanzees who served as part of their crew. Although horribly injured in the crash, Falcon survived and spends years regaining his ability to function, eventually returning to his job as a pilot with an audacious plan.

Falcon proposed a mission to fly through Jupiter’s atmosphere. He notes that many probes have been lost in the atmosphere, but believes that he is uniquely qualified for a crewed mission because he can take evasive action if necessary, noting that he was not at the helm when the Queen Elizabeth IV was struck. His proposal seems like a mix of hubris and a need to atone for the loss of the airship. While Falcon’s reasoning may make sense, the decision to fund and permit him to take on the mission seems a little too pat. However, characterization and motivation has never been Clarke’s forte.

Where Clarke excels, and where Meeting with Medusa succeeds, is building a sense of wonder for the reader. Extrapolating from what was known about Jupiter in the years prior to the first flyby, by Pioneer 10 in 1973, Clarke creates an alien world high in the Jovian atmosphere. Buffeted by hurricane force winds, Falcon provides testimony of the miracles of life that are able to exist there, from the enormous and buoyant medusa, named for the tentacles that dangled beneath them, to the ray-like predators that glide through the skies. The size of these creatures, and the requirements for living where they do, mean that Clarke has incorporated aspects of biology that only exist on a small scale on Earth, if at all.

Gardner Dozois commented that Meeting with Medusa “is a bit traveloguish,” but there is more to the story than simply Falcon’s sightseeing through Jupiter’s skies and achieving a sense of closure for the Queen Elizabeth incident. Clarke provides a more specific reason why Falcon may be the right person for the job, but that final revelation feels a little tacked on and Clarke didn’t make full use of it throughout the story.

Forty-five years after its original publication, authors Stephen Baxter, who collaborated with Clarke, and Alastair Reynolds published a sequel to Meeting with Medusa, the novel The Medusa Chronicles, which expanded on the world Clarke described and the character who explored that world.

Playboy cover by an unknown artist
Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine, September 1985, cover by J.K. Potter

The novella Green Mars was originally published in Isaac Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine in September, 1985 and should not be confused with Robinson’s 1993 novel Green Mars. It was nominated for the Hugo Award and the Nebula Award.

Roger Clayborne, who is around 300 years old, has resigned from his position as Minister of the Interior for Mars, a position he has held for 27 years. A member of the Red Party, which championed the maintenance of Mars in its natural state, he has come to realize that his ideology has lost out to the Greens, who have successfully terraformed Mars to an extent that conserving its pristine nature is no longer possible.

In his own attempt to get back to nature, Clayborne signs on with an expedition to climb Olympus Mons, at 22 kilometers, the tallest mountain in the solar system, with a peak that juts out of the planet’s atmosphere. All expert climbers, including a woman Clayborne knew more than 250 years earlier, the trek up the mountain proves dangerous, between the threat of rockfall, weather, and the thinner Martian atmosphere.

Set over the span of several weeks, Clayborne interacts with nearly all of the other members of the expedition in various ways and the expedition leader, Eileen Monday, makes sure to rotate who partners with whom. With a cast of eleven characters, some do get short shrift (only one of the four “Sherpas” is given a last name and none of them are fleshed out), but Robinson does limn out distinctions between most of the characters, from Marie Whillans’ exuberance to Dougal Burke’s quiet competence. Roger’s interactions often depict part of the story, but Robinson makes clear that there are complex relationships behind the scenes.

Robinson also describes the climb in details, introducing the reader to a variety of concepts used to scale mountains and showing that, even with the relatively gentle slope of Olympus Mons, the ascent is difficult, with a lot of climbing and descending as paths and dead ends are discovered and materials are carefully positioned to ensure the expedition’s chance of success. At the same time, injuries happen and must be dealt with, not always in the most obvious ways.

As Clayborne climbs the mountain, the natural beauty and his discussions with the other climbers slowly begins to make him reconsider what it means to be a Red in a world in which terraforming has already taken hold. By the time he reaches the summit, he comes to a conclusion that he can still work to preserve Mars under what he considers to be less than ideal circumstances, but also understands that a terraformed Mars as a beauty all its own.

Both stories are explorations of strange vistas, with Clarke exploring the atmosphere of Jupiter and raising perceptual questions about both the concept of landscapes and life, introducing cloudbanks that were seen as mountains and massive creatures that lived in the atmosphere, never landing. Robinson presented the different layers of Olympus Mons, drawing parallels between mountains and rock formations on Earth with those on Mars as his climbers made the dangerous ascent. However, while both are explorations into the unknown, Robinson also focused on the relationships between the members of his climbing expedition, while Clarke’s protagonist spends most of the story is solitude. The result of this is that the strength of Robinson’s characters highlights the weakness of Clarke’s characters.

Steven H Silver is a twenty-time Hugo Award nominee and was the publisher of the Hugo-nominated fanzine Argentus as well as the editor and publisher of ISFiC Press for eight years. He has also edited books for DAW, NESFA Press, and ZNB. His most recent anthology is Alternate Peace and his novel After Hastings was published in 2020. Steven has chaired the first Midwest Construction, Windycon three times, and the SFWA Nebula Conference numerous times. He was programming chair for Chicon 2000 and Vice Chair of Chicon 7.

It’s been a while since we’ve had the chance to bring you a brand-new convention offering, and in 2025 we’re bringing you two. First up is one of the biggest celebrations of all things spooky, creepy, and downright chilling heading to Chicago for the first time this May. GalaxyCon, the powerhouse of fan events, is bringing its first-ever Nightmare Weekend to the Donald E. Stephens Convention Center in Rosemont, Illinois, from May 2-4, 2025 — and it’s shaping up to be an unforgettable fright fest.

“We’re thrilled to deliver our unique fan experience to Chicago,” says Mike Broder, GalaxyCon’s founder and president. “Our events have brought millions to local economies, and we can’t wait to make a positive impact in this area too.”

Translation? A weekend of scares and a boost to local businesses. Win-win!

Over three days, Nightmare Weekend will transform the convention center into a playground for horror lovers including:

• Over 100 hours of programming: Dive into Q&As, comedy, panels, screenings, gaming, and more.
• Late-night mischief: After-dark cosplay competitions, karaoke, dance parties, and cabaret performances.
• Cosplay galore: Show off your creepiest costumes and compete for glory.
• Tattooing and sinister shopping: Pick up unique merchandise or get inked to commemorate the weekend (will this be the event where I get Chris to go under the needle?).
• And the pièce de résistance? A killer lineup of celebrity guests ready to make your horror-loving heart skip a beat.

Prepare for meet-and-greets, photo ops, and autograph sessions with stars from your favorite films and shows. This year’s nightmare-worthy roster includes:

• Cast members from The Walking Dead
• The hilarious crew of What We Do in the Shadows (that’s a big “Hell yes” from us!)
• Stars of Thanksgiving (because who doesn’t love a horror twist on a holiday?)
• The spellbinding witches of Hocus Pocus
• Icons from slashers like Friday the 13th and Scream VI
• The vampy badasses of From Dusk Till Dawn

Whether you’re a hardcore horror fan or just looking for a fun weekend escape, Nightmare Weekend has something for everyone. Tickets start at just $40 and are available now at GalaxyCon’s website.

Our second new outing comes up a month later in June. The Haunted America Conference is making its spine-chilling return for the 28th year, but covering it is a first for Black Gate Photog Chris Z and I. From June 26-29, 2025, the historic town of Alton, Illinois — often hailed as one of the most haunted small towns in America — will host this legendary gathering at Lewis and Clark Community College.

And before you come for me on this one, we just report what we see for your entertainment. If we only wanted to report facts, we’d go work for the BBC.

Besides, this isn’t your typical fan convention. Founded in 1997 by renowned author and paranormal historian Troy Taylor, the Haunted America Conference offers a deep dive into the world of ghosts, hauntings, and all things unexplained. ​

Here’s a glimpse of what’s in store:

• Engaging Presentations: Learn from leading experts about spirits, cryptids, UFOs, and other mysteries that lurk in the shadows. ​
• Hands-On Workshops: Participate in sessions designed to enhance your investigative skills and understanding of the paranormal.​
• After-Hours Events: For those brave enough, exclusive nighttime activities delve deeper into the unknown.​
• Vendor’s Room: Browse a curated selection of eerie merchandise, from haunted relics to the latest ghost-hunting gear.​

Tickets are available now, with general admission granting access to all main events on Friday and Saturday. For a detailed schedule, list of speakers, and ticket information, visit the official Haunted America Conference website.​

So, stay tuned. We’ll be saving all the receipts.

The Irish writer Brian Moore, who died in 1999 (he pronounced his first name in the Irish fashion — Bree-an) was one of the most interesting novelists of his time, at least based on the four books of his that I’ve read, all of which deal with areas where the supernatural, the philosophical, and the theological intersect and blur into each other.

Catholics (1972) is set in the near future after a hypothetical Fourth Vatican Council has banned private confession, clerical garb, and the Latin mass, while the fictitious Pope of the novel is engaged in negotiating a formal merger of Roman Catholicism and Buddhism, radical changes that are resisted by a handful of monks living on a small island off the coast of Ireland. In The Great Victorian Collection (1975), a scholar dreams of a fabulous collection of Victorian artifacts, and when he wakes up, it has actually appeared in the parking lot outside his California motel room. Who will believe such a thing? Can he believe it himself? Black Robe (1985) is a painstakingly detailed — and bracingly unsentimental — historical novel about the material and spiritual struggles of a Jesuit missionary to the Hurons in seventeenth century Canada.

Cold Heaven (1983) was the first Moore novel I read. That was over thirty years ago, and though the details faded over the decades, I retained a fairly strong memory of the theme and overall shape of the story. The impression that remained the strongest, however, was a feeling of general dislike. Because I very much enjoyed the subsequent Moore novels I read, I’ve often wondered whether my tepid response to Cold Heaven was my own fault; perhaps I just didn’t know how to read the book all those years ago. It was in this frame of mind that I recently reread the novel, reconfirming some of my original impressions and altering others.

Issues of faith and belief are central to all four of these books. Moore was raised a Catholic (and not just any Catholic — an Irish Catholic), though by the time he began his writing career he was no longer a believer. Though faith is a closed issue for most believers and non-believers alike — they’ve just come to different conclusions — for Moore the question is far from settled. Despite his rejection of his religious upbringing, in his books dealing with faith isn’t like picking up a lifeless broom handle — it’s like grabbing a snake. You can never be sure you’ve got a secure hold on it, and you have to adjust your grip constantly, because the thing you’re dealing with is alive, with a will of its own.

Before going any farther, a disclaimer — I am not a Roman Catholic, but I am a Christian, and though I am unable to entirely set aside my philosophical and theological convictions when I read a piece of fiction, I do make a good faith effort to take a writer’s work on his or her own terms. Given the subject of this book, I tried especially hard to assume as “neutral” a position as possible. I will say that Moore didn’t make that easy, which was probably his intention.

Cold Heaven is told (almost) entirely from the point of view of a young American woman in her mid-twenties named Marie Davenport. When the story begins, Marie is on vacation with her physician husband, Alex, in the south of France, where he is attending a medical convention. Marie has decided to leave Alex, an arrogant, controlling, selfish man, for her lover Daniel, whom she has secretly been having an affair with for over a year. Marie hasn’t yet summoned the courage to tell Alex this, however.

Before Marie can bring herself to confront her husband with her decision, Alex is struck by a motor boat while swimming in the Mediterranean and suffers a skull fracture. He is taken unconscious to a hospital, where he dies without ever regaining consciousness.

Things immediately shift from the tragic to the bizarre and inexplicable when Alex’s body disappears from the hospital. Has it just been “misplaced”, or is there something else going on? Marie begins to think the latter when she checks her hotel room and discovers that Alex’s clothing is gone and that someone has used his airline ticket to return to the states. Marie follows and catches up with this person, who turns out to be Alex, very much alive — sort of.

What happened? All Alex knows is that he woke up in the hospital morgue; confused and seized by panic, he fled the hospital and the country. When Marie finds him, he is wildly unstable; sometimes he seems almost normal, but most of the time he swings between combative agitation, and most frightening to Marie, a dull, glassy-eyed affectlessness when he seems little more than a zombie. Physically, his vital signs also go through extreme fluctuations; at times, his pulse and temperature readings are so low as to literally be impossible, and sometimes he seems to again be dead. Alex is apparently helplessly suspended between life and death.

Unwilling to abandon him in this condition, Marie wonders whether her husband is being used to punish her for something that happened a year before, and it is this mysterious event and Marie’s response to it that form the crux of the novel.

Exactly one year before Alex’s accident, Marie had been in Carmel, California for a tryst with Daniel. She had been taking a solitary stroll along the cliffs by the ocean when the figure of a young girl appeared lower down the cliff side, in a spot where it would have been virtually impossible for a person to be. Bathed in an eerie, unearthly light, the girl called Marie by name and told her, “I am your mother. I am the Virgin Immaculate.” She also instructed Marie to tell the priests of this encounter, because that spot must become “a place of pilgrimage.” These pronouncements were immediately followed by lightning and thunder, after which the figure faded away.

Such an experience would startle and discomfit almost anyone, but it especially shakes Marie, and for a very good reason — she’s an atheist who has nothing but hatred and contempt for religion and mistrust and suspicion for religious people.

Marie’s mother was a barely-practicing Catholic and her father wasn’t religious at all. When her mother died, Marie’s father put her into a Catholic boarding school in Montreal simply to have the girl out of his hair. She hated it there and never forgave her father for ignoring her pleas and abandoning her in a place that tried to indoctrinate her in an unwanted faith. (A convent of the same order as the despised school is in Carmel, near the spot where Marie saw the apparition.)

In the year between her experience in California and the disaster in France, Marie has gone about her life as if the vision never happened; not only did she not tell any priests about it, she has never told anyone else, either. She treats this possible encounter with the divine as if it were a shameful, dirty secret.

Alex’s accident and his strange condition coming exactly one year later — can it just be a coincidence? Marie thinks not; she very much fears that she is being punished for her disobedience, and that her husband is a kind of hostage, that through him she is being compelled to obey the apparition’s directions. She finally speaks to a sympathetic member of the Catholic clergy, Monsignor Cassidy, a cautious, commonsense religious bureaucrat who is nevertheless not insensitive to higher things. Marie’s main concern is not to be publicly implicated or involved in any way in this situation, whatever the church decides to do about it.

As Monsignor Cassidy tries to decide how to handle this situation (he would much rather be swimming or on the links) and Alex continues to lurch between extremes, Marie frantically tries to escape something that she can only think of as a trap; seeing herself as a victim of unseen forces, she suspects every word spoken, every action taken by anyone she meets as a move in a sinister chess game, the object of which is to steal her life from her. With a barely suppressed hysteria, she comes to see herself and everyone else in this drama as little more than powerless marionettes.

Her extraordinary dilemma is finally resolved when the apparition appears again, this time to a nun from the nearby convent. (Marie is present when this happens, but rather than see the vision again she closes her eyes, places her hands over her ears, and flings herself face down on the ground.) As the charge has now been “passed on” to someone else (due to Marie’s adamant refusal?), Monsignor Cassidy assures her that he will completely leave her out of the report that he will make to his superiors. She is free to resume her old life on her own terms.

People are sometimes spoken of as “clinging desperately” to belief; throughout the book, Marie has clung desperately to unbelief, and in the end, she has successfully outrun the Hound of Heaven. At one point, she declares (repeating Catholic doctrine, no doubt unintentionally), “a person has a right not to believe.” Monsignor Cassidy agrees: “I think God has let you go.”

It did not take long for me to remember why I felt a vague dislike when I thought of Cold Heaven — the reason is Marie; she’s a difficult character to warm up to, to say the least. We’re in her head for virtually the entire book, and for the whole course of the story, she’s driven by nothing but fear, hatred, anger, resentment, and suspicion that frequently crosses over into outright paranoia. Even if you think that these reactions are entirely understandable and justified, it’s still extremely unpleasant to be locked up with such a person for two hundred and fifty pages.

She’s also a frustrating character because the above-mentioned reactions and attitudes make her, quite literally, stupid. When she talks to the good-humored and reasonable Monsignor Cassidy or the friendly nuns from the convent, her preconceptions about them and her absolute refusal to concede that their worldview might have anything at all going for it, cause her to be almost literally unable to see them, unable to hear them, unable to understand the simplest things that they say to her, unable to extend them the smallest degree of trust or sympathy. (At one point, when she sees a minister in the hospital, she immediately bristles. She knows that there are always ministers around such places, “bothering people.” It never occurs to her that some people may actually want a minister, may benefit from their presence. If she were told that, she would likely stare blankly; the words wouldn’t even register.)

As she avoids the apparition’s directions, so she avoids any uncomfortable question or issue. She never once confronts the fundamental incoherence of her position, that of thinking that her husband is being threatened and that she’s being blackmailed by something that she doesn’t even believe exists. (Most of the time, she reflexively thinks that some unnamed “they” are forcing her to do what she doesn’t want to do. But exactly who are “they?” A golf-playing prelate and some dirt-poor nuns couldn’t be pulling the strings in a cosmic conspiracy, could they?)

We’re not much better off than Marie, because we never get a clear enough view of this struggle to be able to render a judgment on it — Marie seems to be just a recalcitrant piece of rope in a game of tug-of-war, the real nature of which we never understand, because we never know who’s holding the ends of the rope.

On a more down-to earth level, Marie never understands that she’s just like her hated father, who also would admit no impediments whatsoever to living his life precisely the way he wanted. Likewise, she avoids thinking about the irony of being desperate to save her husband… so that she can tell him that she’s leaving him because she never loved him. (After all, isn’t Alex as much a threat to the life Marie wants to live as any apparition?)

Still, despite its frequently infuriating protagonist, simply taken as an intricate, offbeat thriller, Cold Heaven is often a gripping read. If it ultimately feels somewhat unsatisfactory, that may be because of all the issues that are never addressed, the greatest of which is this — Marie “wins”, in that she successfully rejects the call that was placed on her (which, from everything that we can see, was a genuine one, not a dream, not a hallucination)… but in this context, what does winning mean? Has she really won a hard-fought victory, or has she actually suffered a defeat — one that may have eternal consequences?

That’s the question of questions, but a definitive answer to it can’t be given within the bounds of the story that Brian Moore has given us; perhaps one of the things that he was saying in Cold Heaven is that it’s a question that can’t be answered within the bounds of the “story” that we’re all in, this little life that begins in darkness and ends with a blank wall that it’s impossible to see over.

More now than after my first reading, though, I believe that Brian Moore was canny enough a writer to know what questions his book was posing but not answering, and also to know just what kind of impression Marie is likely to make on readers. I do wonder, though, if it might it not have been better to have given her some corner of herself, however small, that was beguiled — “tempted”, even — by the apparition’s call; it certainly would have made her a less strident, more interesting, more nuanced and sympathetic character. Moore almost certainly considered such a strategy, but we must assume that the Cold Heaven that would have resulted from that change is not the Cold Heaven he wanted to write.

In the end, it might be best to regard this odd, ambitious, unsatisfactory yet haunting novel as a sort of metaphysical nightmare. Some of my favorite books fall into this category — The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton, The Unpleasant Profession of Jonathan Hoag by Robert A. Heinlein, The Third Policeman by Flann O’Brien, The Land of Laughs by Jonathan Carroll, The Arabian Nightmare by Robert Irwin, Typewriter in the Sky and Fear by L. Ron Hubbard, The Mysterious Stranger by Mark Twain, UBIK by Philip K. Dick, and Conjure Wife by Fritz Leiber are some outstanding examples.

These are books in which the face of reality is veiled, and more than that, in which there is a strong implication that we can never pierce that veil, not because of any inherent limitations in our perception but because the appearance of things has been consciously contrived to deceive us. Contrived by whom? Ah, now that’s a question…

In a metaphysical nightmare, not only is there a sense that reality is inexplicable and sinister (that it’s somehow fundamentally wrong), but the characters must also have an overpowering feeling that they are trapped in that warped reality with no possibility of escape; that’s the nightmare aspect of the story. (The nightmares are literal in several of the books I mentioned, Fear and The Arabian Nightmare, especially, and even in Cold Heaven, where Marie begins having terrifying dreams after she first sees the apparition.)

Metaphysical nightmares are the very opposite of comforting, and reading one can give you a chill that can’t be dispelled by turning up the thermostat; certainly they’re not stories that you read for reassurance. Is the world really like that, though — are we actually living in a metaphysical nightmare?  I don’t think so, but I know some people do. (I have to admit that there are days when it’s difficult to disagree with them.) I do know this, though — in a world like that, options are reduced to just a few: faith, despair, madness, or, as in the case of the triumphantly intransigent Marie Davenport, just lower your head, charge forward in your chosen direction, and whatever you do, avoid asking certain questions.

Any Questions?

Thomas Parker is a native Southern Californian and a lifelong science fiction, fantasy, and mystery fan. When not corrupting the next generation as a fourth grade teacher, he collects Roger Corman movies, Silver Age comic books, Ace doubles, and despairing looks from his wife. His last article for us was To Save Your Sanity, Take Steven Leacock’s Nonsense Novels and Call Me in the Morning (or, Why Are Canadians Funny?)

These winged beach rats have opinions. Image by Leila from Pixabay

Good afterevenmorn!

Once again, there appears to be a lot of talk on the various socials about what is and isn’t good ‘art’ (writing, music and actual art) and who is “cringe” for liking what. Of course, for every declarative “cringe” thing, there is a considerable amount of pushback from the folks who like that thing. Heavens, it’s all so very tiresome.

I know I’ve ranted about this, but the proliferation of this nonsense in the past couple of weeks has inspired to repeat myself. Yet again.

I have variously seen angry rants about Sleep Token (a genre-defying band that enjoyed a meteoric rise in the past couple of years), romance novels, fantasy novels, science fiction novels, horror novels, literary fiction, anything in the Warhammer universe, My Little Pony nonsense (yes, even after all this time), and even someone who decided that it’s cliché, boring and stupid for young women to love horses.

Good lord.

Just let people like things.

I can’t believe I have to say this again in the year two thousand and twenty-five.

This Canadian cobra chicken is going to make themselves heard, damn it. Image by Lo Age from Pixabay.

While this is covering a broad list of things that I saw this week, it is especially pertinent for speculative fiction. So many people in speculative fiction try to make themselves feel better about their preferred genre by being absolutely horrendous to other folks for no other reason than their own enjoyment of a different genre. It’s the dumbest thing I have ever personally witnessed.

Listen, everyone is perhaps a little wound-up at present. Perhaps that’s why some folks are overblowing small, personal tastes and attempting to shame or belittle anyone who happens to think differently. I get it. I’m pretty irritable at present, too. Things are less than fun for most people at the moment. If you find yourself getting irrationally irate at a particular take, I’m going to offer you a plan of action.

Ready? Let’s begin.

So, someone likes something you don’t

Before posting your rebuttal, go through this short checklist:

1. Does their liking something you do not materially affect your life at all?

If their obsession with Warhammer 40K intrudes only on your timeline and not in any other part of your life, your best course of action is to simply scroll past and leave them alone.

Now if it is doing some material, genuine harm to you and your life, then yes, feel free to discuss that. It’s rare, but I absolutely do agree that it does happen, and it should be brought to light. But if the only thing wrong with the thing is that you don’t personally like it, just scroll on.

2. Are you perhaps a little hungry?

Suffering from caffeine or nicotine withdrawal? Hold off publicly berating someone for their tastes in science fiction novels or for enjoying romance. Oh, they’re 20 years late to The Lord of the Rings, and you’re so over it? Go eat something. Have a nap. It’s alright. Everything will be a little better when you wake up.

Baby.

3. Did anyone actually ask you?

Was your opinion requested, or were they just sharing something that was giving them joy? If you were asked, by all means tell them your thoughts. Otherwise, hush. No one asked you. Believe it or not, most people couldn’t care less that you believe Sleep Token “isn’t real metal” and “is so overrated,” for example. I doubt anyone who loves fantasy as a genre cares whether or not you find it “irrelevant” and “without intellectual merit.” No need to reply to that tweet of theirs. Just scroll on. And just like that, you’ve not crushed anyone, or ruined a joyous moment, or put something unnecessarily negative out in the world for no reason but to soothe your own misplaced ire.

I know, I know. You think that it’s just so dorky. And? I don’t agree, but let’s pretend it’s objectively so very nerdy in the worst possible way. So what? Let them be a dork. Even publicly. You needn’t bother yourself with correcting them. After all, if it’s true, they’ll just be ignored, and all sad and alone. You’ll be vindicated without so much as lifting a finger. How lovely. And if they’re not ignored, but find a community 0f like-minded folks, even better. Now you’ll be spared from having to deal with all those dorks. They’ll take care of themselves in their own little corner. Go you.

This swallow needs the world to know her thoughts. Image by Kev from Pixabay.

Are you struggling to contain your rebuttal? That’s alright. We’ve all been there. Here’s a possible solution: Write it out. Write in your journal. Or on a blog post (waves). Hell, even make it a Twitter thread. Just don’t @ the person who inspired your tirade, or do it as a linked reply or quote. That way you can vent your weaselly black guts out without ruining anyone else’s day. You’ll feel better, and they’ll be blissfully unaware.

We all need to vent sometimes. That’s alright. Do that.

But I do not, never have, and never will understand the impulse to be horrid to someone sharing a thing that brings them joy just because they shared the thing that brought them joy and it doesn’t bring you joy. Let people like things. Even things you don’t like. The world won’t end. I promise.

When S.M. Carrière isn’t brutally killing your favorite characters, she spends her time teaching martial arts, live streaming video games, and cuddling her cat. In other words, she spends her time teaching others to kill, streaming her digital kills, and a cuddling furry murderer. Her most recent titles include Daughters of Britain, Skylark and Human. Her serial The New Haven Incident is free and goes up every Friday on her blog.

Readers of my weekly column (both of you) know that I quite enjoying giving my opinion on a wide range of topics. I’ll cut the normal ten down to six this time, but it’s been two months since I’ve expounded thus. And that’s at least one month too long, right? So…

It’s the first shelfie of 2025. There’s a list of the eleven prior installments below.

I have three bookcases of fantasy – of which only a couple are science fiction. I just never got into that genre. I am, however, a HUGE Douglas Adams fan.

And I know that three isn’t a lot – I’ve got well over a thousand mystery books I’m the in-house mystery guy, remember? I’ve got a nice selection of fantasy series’, though.

I’ve got Adams’ five Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy novels, as well as the lone Hitchhiker’s short story; and Eion Coifer’s good-enough continuation novel, And Another Thing…

I’ve re-read the Hitchhiker’s series several times. It’s always fun. Coifer’s book was okay, but seemed too long and kinda dragged along. I found listening to the audiobook easier than reading it.

I thought the collection of original radio scripts was a VERY cool read. Definitely a worthwhile book for fans of the novels.

Starship Titanic is briefly mentioned in Life, the Universe, and Everything. It was the subject of a video game (which I played, of course), and there was a lightweight book based on the game, written by Monty Python’s Terry Jones. It’s fine. I think Jones himself reads the audiobook, which I’ve listened to.

The Adams biography by Jem Roberts was a pretty informative read. Neil Gaiman’s Don’t Panic is likewise full of neat stuff to know about Adams. I recommend both for fans who want to learn more about Adams.

I love the humor in The Hitchhiker’s books, and I’ve even crated a couple entries for it, here at Black Gate (links below).

But hands down, my favorite Adams book is Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency. I like the sequel, The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul. But I LOVE the first one. It’s a brilliant private eye novel. I’ve read or listened to the audiobook, several times. It may well be in my Top Ten novels list. Adams’ brilliance is on full display.

The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul is one of my favorite book titles. The story, which involves Thor and the Norse gods, is good, but a definite step down from the superb first novel. Nonetheless, it’s full of more Dirk Gently, and that’s more than good enough.

The BBC did radio plays of each novel. The first is my favorite radio play of them all, and I’ve easily listened to it a hundred times. They took some story liberties with the sequel, but it’s still a fun listen. I have both as one Audible title, and I listen to both at least two or three times a month – often as I fall asleep. Great cast, special effects: all of it.

There’s an unfinished third Gently novel included in The Salmon of Doubt. Simply put, it’s not very good, and I don’t know that finishing it would have made it much better.

I think Adams and Terry Pratchett were brilliant societal commentators and satirists. And terrific storytellers.

If you’ve never read Dirk Gently, or the Hitchhiker’s series, you’re really missing out on some fun!

 

And check out my other Adams posts:

Don’t Panic (All Adams posts at Black Gate in one place)
The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes: Don’t Panic!
The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes: Dirk Gently, Holistic Detective
The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes: Stephen Mangan’s Dirk Gently
The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes: The crappy new BBC Dirk Gently Show
What I’ve Been Watching: A (Britbox) December, 2021
What I’ve Been Listening To: September, 2022
What I’ve Been Reading: September, 2022

And my prior Shelfies posts:

Bob’s Books – Shelfie #1 (Sherlock Holmes #1)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #2 (Sherlock Holmes #2)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #3 (Constitutional Convention of 1787)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #4 (Thieves World, Heroes in Hell)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #5 (REH, Moorcock, Kurtz)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #6 (Cook, LeGuin, Gygax, Hardy, Hendee, Flint, Smith, McKillip)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #7 (Sherlock Holmes #3)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #8 (McKiernan, Watt-Evans, Leiber, Bischoff, Rosenberg)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #9 (Hillerman, Monk)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #10 (U.S. Civil War)
Bob’s Books – Shelfie #11 (Dashiell Hammett)

Bob Byrne’s ‘A (Black) Gat in the Hand’ made its Black Gate debut in 2018 and has returned every summer since.

His ‘The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes’ column ran every Monday morning at Black Gate from March, 2014 through March, 2017. And he irregularly posts on Rex Stout’s gargantuan detective in ‘Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone.’ He is a member of the Praed Street Irregulars, founded www.SolarPons.com (the only website dedicated to the ‘Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street’).

He organized Black Gate’s award-nominated ‘Discovering Robert E. Howard’ series, as well as the award-winning ‘Hither Came Conan’ series. Which is now part of THE Definitive guide to Conan. He also organized 2023’s ‘Talking Tolkien.’

He has contributed stories to The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories — Parts III, IV, V, VI, XXI, and XXXIII.

He has written introductions for Steeger Books, and appeared in several magazines, including Black Mask, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, The Strand Magazine, and Sherlock Magazine.

You can definitely ‘experience the Bobness’ at Jason Waltz’s ’24? in 42′ podcast.

Days of the Dead Chicago

Fittingly, last week Black Gate photog Chris Z and I attended the Days of the Dead convention in Chicago for our thirteenth year. This is one of our favorite shows as the hotel venue is more intimate and less daunting than some of the mega-conventions, and the celebrities aren’t sequestered behind curtains unless guests pay. Though it is smaller and less frantic, it still attracts an interesting, albeit local crowd, and we never fail to meet memorable people.

Arriving a tad early from our respective day jobs, we kicked off this outing in our standard fashion. It stands to reason that upping our blood alcohol levels before wading in offers some measure of protection from the potential of infection that naturally comes with crowded hotel conference rooms – and it’s so much more fun than antibacterial.

Kicking off Days of the Dead in standard fashion

​Days of the Dead is a fan-driven horror convention that was established in Indianapolis in 2011 with the aim of creating a welcoming social gathering for horror enthusiasts; moving away from the impersonal “pay-and-go” autograph shows that had become prevalent. The event quickly gained popularity, leading to its expansion into multiple cities across the United States, including Chicago in 2012, Los Angeles, Louisville, Atlanta, and Las Vegas.

The convention’s primary goal is to offer fans an immersive experience, featuring special events tailored specifically for attendees, an active after-hours scene with horror-themed parties, and a diverse guest list that includes celebrities, artists, and independent filmmakers. This approach has set a new standard for what a horror convention weekend can offer. ​

We had some memorable celebrity chats when DotD came through Chicago in November, but the March show was a tad light on people of interest. To be fair, the Revenge of the Nerds reunion attracted a crowd, but this was mainly due to the other movies the actors had appeared in. So off Chris Z and I went to uncover some new creators to share with you and boy did we hit pay dirt.

Comic creator Kevin Fitzgerald New Comic Series – Frankenslaves

We couldn’t help but be impressed with a graphic story that picks up precisely where Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein left off, bringing it all the way into the future. Written by brothers Kevin and Matt Fitzgerald, with illustrations and color by Anna Engelbold, this wonderful, satirical comic blends horror, science fiction, and social commentary into a visually striking narrative. We also love it when creators do trailers for comics so check it.

Set in a dystopian future, the story explores a world where corporations and governments have pushed human exploitation to its grotesque limit; literally stitching together ideal workers from various parts of society to create the ultimate labor force: the Frankenslaves. These reanimated, hybrid beings are engineered for obedience and efficiency, stripped of individuality and free will.

At the heart of the comic is a resistance movement that seeks to uncover the truth behind the Frankenslave program and restore humanity to those who’ve been turned into corporate property. With an interesting, gritty art style and sharp dialogue, Frankenslaves critiques consumerism, systemic oppression, and the commodification of people, while raising important questions about identity, autonomy, and rebellion. Dark, weird, and unapologetically provocative, Frankenslaves invites readers to look beneath the surface — and ask who’s really pulling the strings.

I absolutely love the Frankenstein tie-in and the masterful reimagining of the story for a new audience. Thankfully I scored the first three issues at the show (Thank You Kevin!) but am now nail-biting for issue 4. Frankslaves is available for purchase online and where comics are sold.

Ms. Guzman and her wonderful dollies Freaky Merlina Dolls

Let’s be frank – dolls are kind of creepy anyway, but Nohora Guzman’s dolls are definitely freaky. Each little dolly is handmade, meaning no two are alike. Standing 14” tall, the details such as miniature skull embellishments and incredible outfits makes each piece a work of art, and so much more relatable than Barbie. You can adopt your own at Guzman’s Etsy store for around $50.

Writer/Director Richard Burgin Fang: The Movie

Back at DotD in 2021, we first told you about the indie film Fang. Richard Burgin is the writer and director of this tasty horror flick set in Chicago which at that time was in post-production.

We are thrilled to report that since then, Fang has garnered significant acclaim in the independent film circuit, securing multiple awards and nominations. ​

Midwest Monster Film Fest (2023)

Best Actor: Dylan LaRay
Best Actress: Lynn Lowry
Best Director: Richard Burgin​

The Shawna Shea Film Festival (2023)

Best Performance: Dylan LaRay and Lynn Lowry​
Best Genre Feature: Richard Burgin and Robert Felker​

FANtastic Film Festival in San Diego

Received eight nominations and secured one award.​

Milwaukee Twisted Dreams Festival

Earned five nominations and won four awards.​

In total, Fang achieved 13 film festival awards and received an additional 15 nominations, reflecting Burgin’s strong impact and recognition within the indie horror community.

Check out the trailer and then watch Fang on Amazon Prime Video.

Horror Author John S. McFarland’s The Black Garden and The Mother of Centuries

Horror novel? Check. Historical setting? Check. Deep south mythos? Check and check.

Honestly, there was no way I wasn’t going to fall in love with John S. McFarland’s storytelling given that his tales hit on all my favorite things. McFarland’s short stories have appeared in numerous journals and have been featured in anthologies such as A Treasury of American Horror Stories. His writing has garnered praise from esteemed authors like T.E.D. Klein and Philip Fracassi, with some referring to him as “a great, undiscovered voice in horror fiction.” ​

Author John S. McFarland

In 2010, McFarland published his debut horror novel The Black Garden, which received universal acclaim. The novel is set in the fictional town of Ste. Odile, Missouri, a setting inspired by his family’s deep-rooted connection to the old French Mississippi River town of Ste. Genevieve.

The year is 1882, and Perdita Badon-Reed, a sheltered Boston aesthete, has just made the most momentous decision of her life. Having spurned a respectable suitor, she finds herself on the Mississippi River, steaming toward the strange French Colonial village of Ste. Odile to accept a teaching position at a girl’s academy and pursue her dream of becoming a stone sculptor. Of the many hardships that await her, the one she least expects looms in the form of Orien Bastide, an incubus, who has conducted his seductive and parasitic existence for two millennia. Perdita soon realizes the full horror of Bastide’s intentions, and that she alone has the will to stop him. In order to defeat the treacherous Bastide and save future generations from his predations, Perdita must abandon her personal ambitions, and perhaps her life.

The sequel, The Mother of Centuries, picks up the haunted thread decades later, pulling readers even deeper into the legacy of Ste. Odile’s cursed past.

I’ve only just started reading The Black Garden and I love McFarland’s slow-burn dread-building. You can find it along with The Mother of Centuries as well as McFarland’s other works on Amazon.

Days of the Dead has a full schedule of events in the coming year, all with their own celebrity lineups and vendors, so there’s a chance one is happening near you. Check out:

• Indianapolis: June 13-15
• Phoenix: July 11-13
• Chicago: November 21-23
• Indianapolis: December 5-7
• Las Vegas: January 16-18, 2026
• Atlanta: February 20-22, 2026

Prey for the Devil (Lionsgate, October 28, 2022) Prey for the Devil (2022) – Crave (Max)

Remember how The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy‘s entire description of Earth is ‘mostly harmless’? Well, that’s how I’d describe this one. The director, Daniel Stamm, pumped new life into the genre with The Last Exorcism in 2010, but because this film is aiming for that tasty 13+ rating, most of its teeth have been removed.

That said, I liked the idea of the male-dominated world of the church being upended by a nun who has a gift for connecting with possessed patients, and the whole conceit of modern possession running so rampant that the Vatican has set up exorcism training centers is rather fun. Sister Ann is the ‘chosen nun’, stoically played by Jaqueline Byers, and the rest of the cast is great, with Colin Salmon and Ben Cross adding some gravitas to the whole shebang. Sister Ann has quite a few demons of her own to deal with, and it isn’t long before we realize that everything going on in the film is directly for her. There are no surprises here.

There are some genuinely creepy visuals here and there, but Stamm relies too much on jump scares (hampered by the intended rating).
Still, not horrible, but nothing outstanding. Mostly harmless. 6/10

Exorcism (Profilmes, March 10, 1975)
and The Exorcist: Believer (Universal Pictures, October 6, 2023)

Exorcism (AKA Exorcismo) (1975) – Tubi

The more observant among you will notice that this Spanish production came out two years after The Exorcist, and why not? Priests and pea soup were all the rage back then. Cunningly, Exorcismo was released in Spain *before* The Exorcist, thus making Friedkin and Blatty look like a couple of rip-off artists.

This one stars fan-favourite Paul Naschy as pipe-smoking priest, Father Dunning, a laid-back man of the cloth who has had brushes with Old Nick in the past. Naschy is a dead ringer for John Belushi in this film, and I do enjoy watching him when he is playing a good guy.

Story-wise, some hairy hippies get satanic in a cave, and this leads to a young woman, Leila (played well by Grace Mills), eventually getting possessed by the demonic spirit of her dead dad. It’s a bit of a slow burn to get to the actual exorcism (which takes place in the last 10 mins), as the film takes a giallo turn with a plethora of grisly murders (real head-turners), a pervy chauffeur, African voodoo, and fingers pointed everywhere except at Leila.

Eventually, it’s up to Dunning to confront the possessed woman and do his thing.

There are plenty of obvious Exorcist influences in the film, with a few similar scenes, but this one is fun to watch due to hilarious dubbing (couldn’t find a streaming Spanish version) and copious bosoms.

Trigger warning for dog lovers — there is a good boy called Borg in this film, and his assimilation does not go smoothly. 6/10

The Exorcist: Believer (2023) – Prime

We’ve reach the much maligned attempt to reboot the ‘Exorverse’ using the team that had some hit and miss success with the new Halloween trilogy.

Having watched it, I can understand the scorn poured upon it.

It’s the age-old possession tale, but this time there’s two! Therein lies the problem. Despite the use of Tubular Bells, and the shoehorning of some old favourites, this has as much to do with the original film as any old bit of guff you might find on Tubi (Exorcist: Vengeance, Exorcist: The Awakening, Exorcist: Butter Sculpture, etc). In lieu of actually focusing on an exorcist, you might think the film would focus on the ‘believer’ of the title, but it’s hard to pin down who that is supposed to be. The film is coded for the principal protagonist to be Tony, played well by Leslie Odom Jr., but he is actually an unbeliever, until it becomes necessary for him to start thinking all the mumbo jumbo is true. This could have been an awesome film if it just focused on him and his lack of belief, and his need to find faith to save his daughter, but the film is stuffed full with other bland characters, diluting the story.

As for the demonic girls themselves, I didn’t like the makeup, but some of the effects were quite interesting.

I was bored until the last 30 mins, and even then the number of useless folks standing around during the actual ‘exorcism’ weakened it to the point where I wasn’t invested in any of the characters.

I felt for young Regan. I couldn’t care less about this bunch. 4/10

Jessabelle (Lionsgate, November 7, 2014)
and Ghostwatch (BBC, October 31, 1992)

Jessabelle (2014) – Prime

Here’s a glimpse into the alchemy that goes into me writing these nonsense reviews. I found a couple of Blumhouse productions; both 90 mins long, one starring Sidney Sweeney (Nocturne) and one starring Sarah Snook (this one — spoiler alert). I watched both trailers to get a sense of which one I wanted to watch, and as intrigued as I was by the Nocturne storyline, it really felt like it was aimed at the Euphoria audience, not a crusty musty old fart like me.

So here we are.

Jessabelle is the story of a young woman who loses her boyfriend, her baby, and the temporary use of her legs in a car crash, and ends up having to live with her estranged father on a vast and soggy tract of land in Louisiana. Jessie (Snook, brilliant) never met her mother, who died from cancer shortly after she was born, but while rummaging around her deceased mom’s bedroom (her new room), she finds a stack of video tapes, addressed to her from her dead mom. Naturally, she plays one, and mom gets downright spooky with a taped tarot reading — from that point on it’s Haitian shenanigans ahoy as a potentially malevolent spirit starts getting all up in her wheelchair. It’s a solidly made film with excellent performances, and my only gripe is with the denouement, which is spewed out like Sherlock Holmes after a line of Afghan fairy dust.

Still, it’s a decent effort, and lands on the ‘good’ side of the Blumhouse production legacy. 7/10

Ghostwatch (1992) – Prime

Here’s the weird thing. I have no recollection of the hysteria caused by this mockumentary, and in fact I’ve never seen it before (although I was aware of it). I wonder if it coincided with a Halloween party I threw with my then landlord in Wimbledon. Anyhoo, folks seem to like it a lot, so I had to take a look.

I suspect non-Brits get more of a kick out of this film than us limeys who grew up watching these real-life presenters. Parky was an inspired choice to host it, as he was already a well-respected interviewer, and his Yorkshireness would not put up with any bull.

Sarah Greene was the first crush of many youngsters during her time on Blue Peter, and she is definitely the MVP in this. Mike Smith was a bit of a potato, and Craig Charles was hilarious — he elicited the biggest laugh out of me when he manhandled the trick-or-treater at the end.
The rest of the cast was fair to middling, but they can be forgiven for any stilted deliveries due to the fact that this was, of course, basically a television play.

I did like the story, and was surprised how dark it really got toward the end. Also, the occasional flashes of ‘Pipes’ reflected in doors and mirrors was excellent, and really added to the atmosphere. A fun watch. 8/10

Verónica (Sony Pictures International, August 25, 2017)
and Suitable Flesh (RLJE Films/Shudder, October 27, 2023)

Verónica (2017) – Netflix

My penultimate film is Verónica, a Spanish film directed by Paco Plaza (REC and REC 2, Sister Death) loosely based on a true event in which a girl died after after performing a séance at a school in Madrid with her friends. Plaza keeps the film grounded enough for the truth to be ambiguous — did the spooky stuff happen, or was it all in her head?

Either way, he has constructed an effectively chilling story, beautifully shot and wonderfully acted. The lead, Sandra Escacena, is excellent as Verónica, and her young siblings are portrayed by some of the best child actors I’ve ever seen. Truly believable, and cute as a button, which makes the ongoing threat to them even more distressing. After the séance, Verónica begins to suspect that an evil entity has possessed the house (or possibly herself), and we are witness to her unravelling over a nightmare-riddled three days. The mom is mostly absent due to wok, so 14-yr-old Verónica must assume all of her duties, plus survive middle school. It’s an awful situation, and your heart bleeds for their family.

The supernatural elements were creepy and unsettling, and only relied on jump scares once or twice — the rest of the horror comes from the pervasive sense of doom. Great stuff. 8/10

Suitable Flesh (2023) – Prime/AMC+

I showed great restraint in waiting to watch this one, as I really like Joe Lynch as a director (Wrong Turn: Dead End, Mayhem), Dennis Paoli (Re-Animator, Dagon, From Beyond) returned to write it, and it stars Barbara Crampton, who seems to be eternal.

Bottom line — I loved it. I thought Lynch really nailed the 80s Lovecraft adaptation aesthetic, down to the score, the dutch-angles, the cheesy one-liners and the excessive gore. Heather Graham was perfect as Dr. Beth Derby, a psychiatrist who becomes entangled in the life of a disturbed young man, Asa Waite, played well by Judah Lewis. It isn’t long before she is thoroughly on the road to madness (is it madness though? Aha!), and much murder and body-swapping ensues.

Lynch peppers the film with stunning set-pieces (my favourite being the rear camera shots on the car), and enough erotica to make the puritanical Lovecraft quite queasy (H.P. sauce, if you will). The Old Ones among you will notice some familiar names and locations (Miskatonic among them), and it will soon be apparent this is an adaptation of a favourite HPL story, ‘The Thing on the Doorstep.’

Some relocation and gender-swapping has taken place in the retelling, and this is perfectly in line with the film’s theme. In fact, Lynch and Paoli have also managed to sneak some other pertinent themes in, not least of which is the importance of female body autonomy.

A glorious way to finish this watch-a-thon. 9/10

Previous Murkey Movie surveys from Neil Baker include:

What Possessed You? — Part I
What Possessed You? — Part II
Fan of the Cave Bear
There, Wolves
What a Croc
Prehistrionics
Jumping the Shark
Alien Overlords
Biggus Footus
I Like Big Bugs and I Cannot Lie
The Weird, Weird West
Warrior Women Watch-a-thon

Neil Baker’s last article for us was Part II of What Possessed You? Neil spends his days watching dodgy movies, most of them terrible, in the hope that you might be inspired to watch them too. He is often asked why he doesn’t watch ‘proper’ films, and he honestly doesn’t have a good answer. He is an author, illustrator, teacher, and sculptor of turtle exhibits. (AprilMoonBooks.com).

The Other Sky cover by Thomas Kidd
The House in November cover by Mike Embden

Between October and December of 1969, Keith Laumer’s novella The Seeds of Gonyl were published as a serial in the magazine Worlds of If. The story was published the following year in a hardcover by G.P. Putnam & Sons under the title The House in November, and in 1971 as a paperback by Berkley Medallion.

In 1981, Tor reprinted the novel as part of its “Jim Baen Presents” series, but, apparently deeming the novel too short, it paired it with Laumer’s story “The Further Sky,” which had originally be published in the December 1964 issue of Amazing Stories. That story had also undergone a name change and appeared as “The Other Sky” in various reprints, including its appearance with The House in November.

When Tor Books reprinted the volume in 1985, they included a shield on the cover identifying the book as a “Tor Double.” This book may possibly have been created as a dry run or proof of concept for the eventual Tor Double line.  The cover for The Other Sky was provided by Thomas Kidd and the cover for The House in November was provided by Mike Embden, although their credits are reversed on the copyright pages.

“The Other Sky” opens with Vallant having a run-in with the Niss, an alien race that is working in collaboration with humans, although immediately after, he finds an old man in his apartment. The stranger not only claims to have been one of Vallant’s comrades several years earlier (although Vallant has no memory of the man or the situation he describes), but also warns Vallant against the Niss before disappearing through a secret panel in Vallant’s apartment.

When Vallant tries to follow the old man, who discovers he has been killed by the Niss, but he also finds himself taking responsibility for Jimper, an intelligent creature. Jimper confirms what the old man had told Vallant about the Niss, but takes it a step further, claiming to be an ambassador from the King of Galliale to the Humans to form an alliance against the Niss.

Vallant and Jimper flee and find themselves among Jimper’s people on Pluto, although Jimper is not greeted in the manner in which he expects. Although neither Vallant or Jimper understand what is happening, either with the humans, the Niss, or the Gaillialans, Laumer has left enough clues that the reader has a pretty good idea what must happen for all of the pieces to come together. The addition of a portal to another world only helps seal the deal.

However, the quick sequential scenes don’t allow Laumer to fully build the characters or their situations, giving “The Other Sky” the feeling of an outline for a longer work, which means the story is ultimately disappointing and unsuccessful.

For a modern reader, Jimper’s manner of speaking in the third person has the same cadences as J.K. Rowling’s house-elf, Dobby, which bring images to mind as the novel progresses which may not be fair or accurate to Laumer’s portrayal.

Amazing Stories cover by Robert Adragna
Worlds of If cover by Jack Gaughan

The House in November follows Jeff Mallory through a post-war Nebraskan landscape, although the nature of the war is ill defined. At the beginning of the novel, Mallory is awaking from a fugue state. Although he has memories of working in the Miller Building, his wife, Gillian, insists they both work in the Star Tower. In addition, Gillian has no recollection of their oldest child, Lori, or a house in the country where they have spent their time. Leaving he house, he discovers that everyone in town seems to live in the same alternative world Gillian exists in and he flees into the countryside.

As he travels, Jeff discovers that there has been some kind of invasion which has depopulated most of the United States. He comes across small bands of refugees, most of whom are not hospitable t a stranger, although along his travels he connects with Sally, one of his daughter Lori’s friends, and they travel together, eventually finding an ersatz army but together by Colonel Strang. Lori appears to be supporting Strang’s army, and Jeff finds himself impressed into service.

Strang is convinced that the Chinese have invaded the United States and set up their base in Beatrice, the town where Jeff has been living. Nothing Jeff can say will make Strang believe that there are Americans still living in Beatrice and there are no Chinese. Eventually going AWOL, Jeff finds others who are convinced the invasion is from Satanic minions. Jeff is positive the invasion is by aliens, based on what he saw in Beatrice before he left. Although Laumer could have played up Jeff’s paranoia, making the reader question Jeff’s conclusions, The House in November is written in a way that makes the reader side with Jeff against any other theories, all of them as bereft of evidence as any of the others.

Eventually, Jeff does learn what is going on and the reader discovers that for all his normalcy, Jeff is not a normal person. He is, in many ways, the Chosen One, which may ultimately allow him to break through the haze that has settled on so many people and show them the truth of the situation, and possibly even find a solution.

Much of The House in November is episodic in nature and Laumer doesn’t spend too much time exploring any of the episodes. He gets out of Beatrice as quickly as possible at the beginning of the book. The scene in which he finds Sally living with a few survivors is over almost as soon as it starts. His encounter with Colonel Strang’s army, including Lori, exists to give him an idea of how different people’s ideas are, but he quickly leaves them behind and manages to avoid capture by Strang’s forces looking for him. Other scenes are similarly brief, which gives the story a rushed and unfinished feel, as if any of these sequences, or characters, could and should have been fleshed out more than they were.

The novella only finds its pacing when Jeff arrives at the titular house and comes into contact with Gonyl, who may be able to provide him with the answers he seeks. Having set up the world, Laumer is now able to explain to Jeff and to the reader what is happening and why Jeff was able to come out of the stupor in which he found himself.

Both stories in this volume suffer from pacing issue, both of them almost feeling as if they are outlines for more detailed novels. Laumer has elected to include several short scenes which hint at the larger concern, failing to fully flesh them out and never quite connecting with the readers, who never really had a chance to immerse themselves in the action. Both stories are tales of invasion by alien forces which are not fully understood by the people who have fallen under the alien’s control.

Steven H Silver is a twenty-time Hugo Award nominee and was the publisher of the Hugo-nominated fanzine Argentus as well as the editor and publisher of ISFiC Press for eight years. He has also edited books for DAW, NESFA Press, and ZNB. His most recent anthology is Alternate Peace and his novel After Hastings was published in 2020. Steven has chaired the first Midwest Construction, Windycon three times, and the SFWA Nebula Conference numerous times. He was programming chair for Chicon 2000 and Vice Chair of Chicon 7.

The Bright Sword (Viking, July 16, 2024)

With no disrespect to J.R.R Tolkien, the King Arthur legend is arguably the  inspiration of much post World War II medieval-based fantasy. You’ve got your out-of-nowhere claimant to the throne, a magic sword, court intrigue, some side stories, romance, sorcery, betrayal but yet a kind of redemption. All the key ingredients.

Sure, Game of Thrones was based on the very real English Wars of the Roses, particularly the also very real violence and death of key personages. But let’s look at the long literary tradition of Arthurian stories: sourced from Welsh mythology and grafted into 12th century British histories more based on fancy than fact, eventually becoming the  Chrétien de Troyes romances and subsequently Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. From multiple sources and variations we wind our way through Tennyson’s The Lady of Shallot which in turn inspires various associated fictions, not the least of which includes Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court. 

Fast forward to T.H. White’s The Once and Future King and its adaption by Lerner and Loewe musical Camelot (“If ever I would leave you, it wouldn’t be in summer…”).  With the assassination of John F. Kennedy, Camelot became a metaphor for “a shining moment” intervened by fate to extinguish, that nonetheless, like the Christ-like resurrection grafted on to the Arthurian mythos, may inspire future generations. (Only a cynic would make comparisons between Guenevere’s infidelity and Kennedy’s.)

So while the Arthurian narrative is heavily played out by the middle of the 20th century, there’s still more to come.  An extermely short list includes Thomas Berger’s Arthur Rex, The Warlord Chronicles by Bernard Cornwall and, of course, the Monty Python and the Holy Grail movie (inspired in part by the academically disputed contention of Python member Terry Jones that Chaucer’s The Knight’s Tale was actually a satire of a mythical chivalric code and courtly love rather than a celebration of it).

One of my particular favorites is Lavie Tidhar’s By Force Alone, a  political satire in which Arthur is a gang lord, Lancelot a martial arts practitioner, no one is noble of heart, and Arthur’s death is instead of a Christ-like hope for resurrection a comment on the existential insignificance and intransigence of power.

By Force Alone by Lavie Tidhar (Tor Books, August 11, 2020)

Particularly noteworthy is that Guinevere is no mere cardboard supporting character, but more independent woman with agency of her own. This  more modern depiction of women in the Arthurian legend is especially associated with Marion Bradley Zimmer’s The Mists of Avalon retelling from the perspective of Morgaine, who rather than as a one-dimensional evil sorceress is depicted as a sympathetic complex woman during the transition in Britain from paganism to Christianity. Published in the early 1980s and the rise of feminist voices not only in fantasy literature (though, ironically, some critics detect anti-feminist themes in Zimmer’s work, and allegations of sexual abuse by her daughter don’t help) but the larger  zeitgeist, more female-centric retellings of the Arthurian legend followed, such as, most recently, Nicola Griffith’ s Spear and Half Sick of Shadows by Laura Sebastian, as just two examples.

The Mists of Avalon by Marion Zimmer Bradley (Del Rey, May 1984), Half Sick of Shadows
by Laura Sebastian (Ace Books, July 6, 2021), and Spear by Nicola Griffith (Tor, April 9,
2022). Covers by Braldt Bralds, uncredited, and Rovina Cai

So the legend of Arthur has been retold down through the centuries and even with multiple variations and exegesis, we still have the basic uber narrative of a brief realization of an ideal doomed by historical, religious, and insidious forces to failure.  Is there still room for yet another appraisal that just doesn’t rehash the same old same old?

Apparently so. To the extent of 670 pages in Lev Grossman’s The Bright Sword. That’s a lot of Camelot.

I confess that if I hadn’t previously read The Magician’s Trilogy (which perhaps explains why the cover prominently features reference to it, leading some online cataloguers to incorrectly attribute The Bright Sword as part of that series), I might not have picked this up (as a nearly 700 page book makes it hard to do).

Indeed, Grossman himself notes:

I spent most of my life blissfully uninterested in writing anything at all about King Arthur…His story has already been told thousands of time, from every possible point of view… Arthur is also, as it happens, white, middle-aged, heterosexual, and cis-gendered, a point of view that is hardly lacking in contemporary literature.

But by focusing on how the peripheral characters of the Round Table come to grips with a new era  following Arthur’s death (or at least his transport to Avalon following his mortal wounding),  Grossman comes up with a new and fresh angle.

Collum is a gifted knight wannabe (the one character that Grossman makes up) escaping an abusive home whose first kill (and pivotal plot point) is a recalcitrant knight with successful suicidal tendencies.  This occurs as Collum is on his way to fight for a seat at (unbeknownst to him) what’s left of the Round Table band (which isn’t much) following King Arthur’s mortal wounding by his bastard (and product of incest with his sister Morgause, something the juvenile versions of Arthur kind of gloss over) son Mordred at the Battle of Camlaan. Featured surviving bit players include Sir Bedivere, whose devotion to Arthur hides unfulfilled carnal desire, Sir Palomides, a Middle Eastern pagan convert and hunter of the Questing Beast whose particular unrequited love is Iseult of Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde fame, Tristan’s close friend Sir Dinadian, and Sir Dagonet, Camelot’s court jester who is better at joking than jousting.

Don’t worry, Lancelot and Guinevere and the rest of the main cast make cameo appearances, but not as you might expect them. The narrative focuses primarily on the minor characters as they attempt to restore (as you might expect, not successfully) the glory of Arthur’s reign and intentions, with sidesteps into their backstories. As for Arthur himself, well, we already know it doesn’t end well. But it still inspires. As Grossman notes:

King Arthur’s life can only ever end one way, his doom is always waiting for him…of course even after his death Arthur himself is never quite gone. He’s been with us for 1,400 years and counting now and shows no signs of going away. Like Godot he’s always coming, but always tomorrow, never today. He waits, asleep in Avalon, the Fortunate Isle. or under Mount Etna in Sicily, as some other stories have it, dreaming eternally of his homecoming. We dream of it too.

David Soyka is one of the founding bloggers at Black Gate. He’s written over 200 articles for us since 2008. His most recent was a review of State of Paradise by Laura Van Den Berg.

You need a good laugh right now. How do I know this? I know this because I need a good laugh right now. Everyone I know needs a good laugh right now, so it stands to reason that you need one too, doesn’t it?

So… where to go for that much-needed laugh? Well, there are standup specials on Netflix and the other streamers, you’ve got SNL, there are the many late-night topical jokemeisters — all the usual suspects. Now if that stuff really makes you feel better, more power to you; there’s so much of it available these days, you’re in the enviable position of being a kid locked in a candy factory. For me, though, none of those folks can talk for two minutes without referring to you-know-who who lives you-know-where and is up to you-know-what, and I’m sorry, but all that usually ends up making me feel worse.

To maintain minimal sanity, sometimes what I need most is something that will take me to a place that Thomas Hardy (who briefly hosted the Tonight Show after Conan O’Brien was fired) called “far from the madding crowd.” I don’t want something that’s out to earn my approval because it’s correct; I want something that’s out to make me laugh because it’s funny.

Fortunately, several years ago, I found a fabulous device that accomplishes just that. It’s called… are you ready for this? It’s called a book. And that’s not the half of it. It was written by a fellow named Stephen Leacock, and this guy was… I can’t believe I’m saying this… he was… a Canadian.

How can a Canadian be funny? The answer to that is above my pay grade (could it have anything to do with the fact that for the past two hundred and fifty years, Canadians have had a south-facing front row seat at the world’s most outrageous farce… nah, that can’t be it), but I do know that Canadians are funny, and I’ve known it ever since the mid 70’s when I fell head over heels in love with SCTV, which I believe to be the greatest sketch comedy show of all time, despite the fact that it was mostly a product of Canada. I stopped watching SNL over forty years ago, but I still regularly pop in an SCTV DVD; I just watched one last night, as a matter of fact. In any case, even if Bobby Bitman and Lola Heatherton and Johnny LaRue and Bill Needle and Gerry Todd had never existed, you could still win your Canadian Comic Case by offering Stephen Leacock as exhibit A, and if you won’t take my word for it, the man was Groucho Marx’s favorite comic writer — of any nationality. Think about that — he made Groucho Marx laugh.

That’s funny – he looks funny, but he doesn’t look Canadian

And yes, he was really a Canadian; though born in England in 1869, Stephen Leacock lived in Canada from the age of six. He was a resident of Montreal and taught economics at several Canadian universities.

But what you want to know right now is the name of his book, right? The one I’m talking about (he wrote many more) is called Nonsense Novels, and it was first published in 1911. It’s currently available in a few different paperback editions, though the one I have, a nice hardcover from New York Review Books, is unfortunately out of print. I say unfortunately because hardcovers hold up better than paperbacks, and in the time that I’ve had my copy, it’s gotten a lot of hard use. I imagine the same will be true of whatever copy you get your hands on.

Nonsense Novels consists of ten short chapters (each one anywhere from ten to fifteen pages; my NYRB edition is only 159 pages long), and each chapter is a self-contained parody of a nineteenth or early twentieth century popular fiction genre, most of which have been deposited on the ash-heap of publishing, though a few are still alive and kicking. That doesn’t matter, though — the customary devices, the stock characters and situations, the tropes and cliches of each genre have long since been engraved on our cultural memory (through movies, if nothing else) and you’ll have no problem getting the jokes.

So, what we have here are spot-on send-ups of:

The Sherlock Holmesian tale of deduction and ratiocination (Maddened by Mystery or, The Defective Detective), in which the Great Sleuth masterfully assembles all of the clues and comes to the conclusion that the missing “Prince” he’s searching for is not, as he first thought, one of the crowned heads of Europe whose absence will precipitate an international crisis, but is in fact a dachshund whose presence is required at the dog show. He doesn’t locate the animal, but being a master of disguise, a solution easily presents itself to his keen mind: “Rise, dear lady,” he continued. “Fear nothing. I WILL IMPERSONATE THE DOG!!!”

The ghost story (“Q.” A Psychic Pstory of the Psupernatural). “At the moment when Annerly spoke of the supernatural, I had been thinking of something entirely different. The fact that he should speak of it at the very instant when I was thinking of something else, struck me as at least a very singular coincidence.”

A Walter Scott-style hearty historical (Guido the Gimlet of Ghent or, A Romance of Chivalry). “First Guido, raising his mace high in the air with both hands, brought it down with terrible force on Tancred’s mailed head. Then Guido stood still, and Tancred raising his mace in the air brought it down upon Guido’s head. Then Tancred stood still and turned his back. And Guido, swinging his mace sideways, gave him a terrible blow from behind, midway, right centre. Tancred returned the blow. Then Tancred knelt down on his hands and knees and Guido brought the mace down on his back. It was a sheer contest of skill and agility.”

A heart-wrenching story about the trials and travails of a spunky lower-class heroine (Gertrude the Governess or, Simple Seventeen), which begins, “Synopsis of Previous Chapters: There are no Previous Chapters.” The modest charm of the orphaned Gertrude makes her everyone’s favorite: “Even the servants loved her. The head gardener would bring a bouquet of beautiful roses to her room before she was up, the second gardener a bunch of early cauliflowers, the third a spray of asparagus, and even the tenth and eleventh a sprig of mangel-wurzel or an armful of hay. Her room was full of gardeners all the time, while at evening the aged butler, touched at the friendless girl’s loneliness, would tap softly at her door to bring her a rye whiskey and seltzer or a box of Pittsburgh Stogies.”

An inspiring Horatio Alger up-from-nothing success story (A Hero in Homespun or, The Life Struggle of Hezekiah Hayloft). “Such is the great cruel city, and imagine looking for work in it. You and I who spend our time in trying to avoid work can hardly realize what it must mean. Think how it must feel to be alone in New York, without a friend or a relation at hand, with no one to know or care what you do. It must be great!”

A Dostoyevskian drama of living-in-Russia-induced existential madness (Sorrows of a Super Soul or, The Memoirs of Marie Mushenough, Translated, by Machinery, out of the Original Russian). “How they cramp and confine me here — Ivan Ivanovitch my father, and my mother (I forget her name for the minute), and all the rest. I cannot breathe. They will not let me. Every time I try to commit suicide they hinder me. Last night I tried again. I placed a phial of sulphuric acid on the table beside my bed. In the morning it was still there. It had not killed me. They have forbidden me to drown myself. Why! I do not know why? In vain I ask the air and the trees why I should not drown myself? They do not see any reason why. And yet I long to be free, free as the young birds, as the very youngest of them. I watch the leaves blowing in the wind and I want to be a leaf. Yet here they want to make me eat. Yesterday I ate a banana. Ugh!”

A Robert Louis Stevensonish saga of Scotland (Hannah of the Highlands or, The Laird of Loch Aucherlocherty), which chronicles the tragic feud between the McShamuses and the McWhinuses: “It had been six generations agone at a Highland banquet, in the days when the unrestrained temper of the time gave way to wild orgies, during which theological discussions raged with unrestrained fury. Shamus McShamus, an embittered Calvinist, half crazed perhaps with liquor, had maintained that damnation could be achieved only by faith. Whimper McWhinus had held that damnation could be achieved also by good works. Inflamed with drink, McShamus had struck McWhunus across the temple with an oatcake and killed him.”

A Jack London-like sea story (Soaked in Seaweed or, Upset in the Ocean: An Old-Fashioned Sea Story). “By noon of the next day the water had risen to fifteen-sixteenths of an inch, and on the next night the sounding showed thirty-one thirty-seconds of an inch of water in the hold. The situation was desperate. At this rate of increase, few, if any, could tell where it would rise to in a few days.”

A heartstring-tugging Christmas story (Caroline’s Christmas or, The Inexplicable Infant) — the subtitle alone always makes me laugh out loud. “What was that at the door? The sound of a soft and timid rapping, and through the glass of the door-pane a face, a woman’s face looking into the fire-lit room with pleading eyes. What was it she bore in her arms, the little bundle that she held tight to her breast to shield it from the falling snow? Can you guess, dear reader? Try three guesses and see. Right you are. That’s what it was.”

And finally, an H.G. Wells style scientific romance (The Man in Asbestos: An Allegory of the Future): “It seemed unfair that other writers should be able at will to drop into a sleep of four or five hundred years, and to plunge head-first into a distant future and be a witness of its marvels. I wanted to do that too.” The narrator induces his centuries-long sleep by a novel method: “I bought all the comic papers that I could find, even the illustrated ones. I carried them up to my room in my hotel; with them I brought up a pork pie and dozens of doughnuts. I ate the pie and the donuts, then sat back in bed and read the comic papers one after the other. Finally, as I felt the awful lethargy stealing upon me, I reached out my hand for the London Weekly Times, and held up the editorial page before my eye.” That does it; when he wakes up it’s 3000 A.D.

These stories are all unfailingly funny, some riotously so. Leacock hits the genre bull’s-eyes every time; the absurdities of each kind of tale are instantly identified and gleefully exploited, but there’s nothing mean-spirited about these literary burlesques. To write such unerring parodies Leacock had to be well-read in the target genres, and you can see his knowledge, and even more, his affection in every chapter. The book is like a bag holding ten gleaming jewels, but not plastic fakes like the ones kids used to be able to buy at Disneyland for about ten dollars more than you had been planning to spend; every one of Leacock’s treasures is the real thing, a genuine gem sparkling with purest comedy.

Every day we’re faced with a barrage of bad news, and that makes a book as delightful as Nonsense Novels a priceless treasure indeed. Give it a try and I guarantee you’ll feel better; you’ll laugh out loud, not once, but many times, and maybe — just maybe — you’ll even save your sanity.

And by the way — if you know why Canadians are funny, send the answer and five dollars (American) to me care of Black Gate. Cash only — no checks or money orders, please.

Thomas Parker is a native Southern Californian and a lifelong science fiction, fantasy, and mystery fan. When not corrupting the next generation as a fourth grade teacher, he collects Roger Corman movies, Silver Age comic books, Ace doubles, and despairing looks from his wife. His last article for us was You Are Cordially Invited to a Dinner Party in Hell: The Exterminating Angel

March-April 2025 issues of Analog Science Fiction & Fact
and Asimov’s Science Fiction. Cover art by Shutterstock

The big news this month is that all three print science fiction magazines, as well as the mystery magazines owned by Penny Press, have been sold to a new buyer, a consortium of fans who have have ambitions to maintain and grow all five. Here’s an excerpt from the announcement at Locus Online.

Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, Analog Science Fiction and Fact, Asimov’s Science Fiction, Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction have been acquired by Must Read Magazines, a division of a new publishing company, Must Read Books Publishing. All editorial staff from the magazines have been retained in the acquisitions… Must Read Magazines is financially backed by a small group of genre fiction fans. A major investor and board advisor is Michael Khandelwal, the founder of a writing nonprofit and Virginia’s Mars Con toastmaster.

Read all the details, including quotes from Asimov’s editor Sheila Williams, Analog editor Trevor Quachri, and F&SF publisher Gordon Van Gelder, at Locus Online.

Tentatively, I’m willing to believe this is Good News. It makes sense to have all five magazines under one roof, and the recent collapse of F&SF‘s publishing schedule (only one magazine shipped last year) seemed to auger its imminent demise. Though change is rarely good with magazines, and Dell Magazines/Penny Press has been a stalwart home for Asimov’s and Analog for over three decades, since 1992, keeping the magazines healthy and alive through decades of turmoil in the magazine business.

But there’s certainly an argument to be made that the magazines could benefit from a change, and sharing a single home. I’ve seen no announcement on when F&SF will resume publication, and I eagerly await news of the first issues of Asimov’s and Analog from the new publisher, due next week (April 8). Fingers crossed the transition will be smooth.

In the meantime, we’ve got the last Dell Magazine issues of Asimov’s Science Fiction and Analog Science Fiction & Fact in hand, and they’re just as enticing as usual, with contributions from Kristine Kathryn Rusch, Nancy Kress, Marissa Lingen, Ray Nayler, T.R. Napper, Rob Chilson, Robert A. Love, Beth Goder, Anthony Ha, and many more.

Victoria Silverwolf at Tangent Online enjoyed in the latest Asimov’s.

“Weather Duty” by Kristine Kathryn Rusch takes place in the domed city of Las Vegas in a near future where citizens are required to spend time on government committees, analogous to jury duty. The main character serves on the committee that controls the weather. She and a local celebrity are attacked by thugs with high-tech weapons, for reasons that only become clear at the end.

This novella is effective as crime/suspense fiction and as a portrait of a possible future. The speculative technology and the way the government committees work are quite convincing, both in their advantages and their limitations. The protagonist, a dancer and choreographer, is a plausible action heroine, able to deal with a crisis in a believable fashion while remaining a realistic character with whom one can empathize.

“The Hidden God” by T. R. Napper alternates sections of narrative describing unpleasant and often deadly fates facing various rich and famous characters with sections dealing with a philosopher interacting with a highly advanced artificial intelligence. It soon becomes obvious that the powerful AI is attacking people whom it believes are causing enough harm to others that they should be rendered powerless or even killed. It turns out that there is an unexpected connection between the AI and the philosopher. Often as vivid and visceral as any blood-soaked thriller, this novella also raises the age-old issue of whether it is acceptable to help many by harming few. The author doesn’t pretend to solve this ancient dilemma, but uses it to delve into the character of the philosopher.

The drug mentioned in the title of “The Demon of Metrazol” by Ray Nayler is a real one, formerly used to treat mental patients by inducing violent convulsions. In the 1930’s, a woman works at a mental hospital by photographing patients before, during, and after these grim treatments. The patients always display extreme terror when the drug is administered. The story’s ending offers hints as to why this occurs. This is a subtle and unnerving horror story, using disturbing facts of the past to create a growing sense of fear.

The narrator of “The Mystery of My Death” by Rob Chilson is a time traveler who discovers his own grave in the future. He ponders exactly when he might die, goes on a mission to correct an error made in the recent past, and makes a major change in his life. Despite the title and a premise that might seem morbid, this is an upbeat, optimistic story that emphasizes life rather than death.

In “Cryptid or Your Money Back” by Misha Lenau, people can buy kits that allow them to remove their human bodies and become mythical creatures, then switch back whenever they please. The narrator becomes a chupacabra, the so-called goatsucker of Latin American folklore. Reluctant to return to human form, or to socialize with other people who have changed their bodies in this way, the narrator eventually discovers what is really desired.

Read Victoria’s complete review here.

The new Analog is reviewed by the ever reliable Sam Tomaino at SFRevu. Here’s a sample.

The new short fiction begins with the novella, “Murder on the Eris Express” by Beth Goder. Who killed Captain Jeremy on the Eris Express when the sensors of Mo, the ship’s AI were shut off? Mo, who always wanted to be a detective, investigates. Fun story to begin the issue!

“Not Optimus Prime” by Lorraine Alden. Vera is using a QR59 quantum computer to find a large prime number. She actually succeeds at that and something more, but the presence of a man delivering helium puts her in peril. Exciting story.

“It Eats Metal” by Mark Ferguson. Our narrator and his friends investigate a swamp where two students and a dog had disappeared and woman’s legs had been severely injured. What do they find? Nice mystery.

“Those Other Replicator Manufacturers Are Ripping You Off” by Jon Lasser. Some guidelines on getting replicators for your space ship. Amusing.

“Concerning the Multiplicity of Children in Central Florida’s Suburbanized Wetlands” by Ichabod Cassius Kilroy. Mori is almost nine years old and her brother, Orion, is almost five. Each morning she sees ghosts of their possible futures, some good, some bad. Interesting.

“The Code of His Life” by Owen Leddy. Ava and her friend, Alejandro, are in the grey market drug-hacking business. He is offered a job for a big legit firm and takes it. But when he drops dead, Ava knows he was murdered. She investigates and finds a way to have justice. Good story!

“Heat Death” by Kate McLeod. Detective Lidia is called in by her old friend, Chloe, to investigate a man who died of heat in the middle of the Texas desert. What she finds out is tragic. Poignant tale.

The fiction concludes with the novella, “The Return of Tom Dillon” by Harry Lang. This is a follow-up to the novelette, “Hothouse Orchids” by Harry Lang in the January/February 2023. Detective Hector Kovack returns to investigate another murder connected to the group behind the previous one. Does it have a connection to the return of an old friend working on a political campaign? Some good old hard-boiled detective stuff here. I hope I see more.

Yes, there was a crime theme to most of the stories of this issue, I almost thought I was reading Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine!

Read Sam’s full review here.

Here’s all the details on the latest SF print mags.

[Click the images for bigger versions.]

Analog Science Fiction & Science Fact, March-April 2025 contents Analog Science Fiction & Science Fact

Editor Trevor Quachri gives us a tantalizing summary of the current issue online, as usual.

Normally, we think of the March/April issue as something of our “humor and hoaxes issue,” in keeping with the seasonal spirit of April Fool’s Day. This time, however, we’re focusing on another important day in April: Tax Day. Yes, the only things certain in life are death and taxes, and the bulk of our stories lie at the juncture where death and money meet: crime.

Our lead story from Beth Goder, “Murder on the Eris Express,” might evoke familiar images of a mustachioed Belgian on a train, but the parallels end at the title — I promise you’ve never seen a “detective” quite like this. And there are plenty more SF/crime pieces to accompany this one, including:

“The Return of Tom Dillon,” a sequel to Harry Lang’s excellent future noir, “Hothouse Orchids” [January/February 2023]; the opposite of a locked-room mystery, in “Heat Death,” by Kate MacLeod; the definition of a gambling problem, in John Markley’s “In the Hole”; and more.

Plus, of course, we have to include at least some lighter fare, such as “A Whole Generation” by Timons Esias and “Mr. Palomar Goes to Space” by Hayden Trenholm, just for starters, plus our fact article, “Reflections on Mirror Life,” by Robert A. Love — think biochemistry, not Star Trek — and all our regular columns, as well as maybe a surprise or two!

Get your copy now!

Here’s the full TOC.

Novellas

“Murder on The Eris Express,” Beth Goder
“The Return of Tom Dillon,” Harry Lang

Novelettes

“The Code of His Life,” Owen Leddy
“Heat Death,” Kate MacLeod

Short Stories

“Not Optimus Prime,” Lorraine Alden
“Ti Eats Metal,” Mark Ferguson
“To Reap, To Sow,” Lyndsey Croal
“The Emergency Contact,” Arendse Lund
“Those Other Replicator Manufacturers Are Ripping You Off,” Jon Lasser
“Track Eats Track,” Avi Burton
“Concerning the Multiplicity of Children in Central Florida’s Suburbanized Wetlands,” Ichabod Cassius Kilroy
“Palomar Goes to Space,” Hayden Trenholm
“Echo, Write to All,” Nate Givens
“The Timecop and the Timesocial-worker,” S.L. Harris
“If the Weather Holds,” Marissa Lingen
“Murder With Soft Words,” Mike Duncan
“In the Hole,” John Markley

Probability Zero

“A Whole Generation,” Timons Esaias

Flash Fiction

In Her Element, M.t. Reiten

Science Fact

Reflections On Mirror Life, Robert A. Love

Poetry

The Dark Matter Storm, Deborah L. Davitt
Precocious Child, Alexander Senko

Reader’s Departments

Guest Editorial: Seeking Scientific Common Ground, Even On Guns, Richard A. Lovett
In Times To Come
The Alternate View, John G. Cramer
The Reference Library, Rosemary Claire Smith
Brass Tacks

Asimov’s Science Fiction, March-April 2025 contents Asimov’s Science Fiction

Sheila Williams provides a handy summary of the latest issue of Asimov’s at the website.

Our March/April 2025 issue is bursting with fiction. We have three exciting novellas stuffed into our pages. Kristine Kathryn Rusch opens the issue with a thrilling story about “Weather Duty”; T.R. Napper brings us an intense tale about a rogue AI in “The Hidden God”; and Nancy Kress bookends the issue with Part 1 of a giant novella that exposes the terrifying consequences of coexistence with “Quantum Ghosts”!

Ray Nayler reveals the true horror behind “The Demon of Metrazol”; Rob Chilson attempts to resolve “The Mystery of My Death”; new author Anthony Ha gives us “A Brief History of the Afterlife”; new to Asimov’s author Samantha Murray spins the bittersweet tale of “My Heart a Streak of Light Across the Sky”; and new author Donald McCarthy shocks us with truths about “Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon.” Zohar Jacobs returns to our pages with a tense story about what it means to be “On the Night Shift,” and Misha Lenau makes good on the promise of “Cryptid or Your Money Back.”

Robert Silverberg’s Reflections explains “The Naming of Names”; James Patrick Kelly’s On the Net considers “Spaceships of the Mind”; and Norman Spinrad’s On Books muses about “Speculative Literature?” Plus we’ll have an array of poetry you’re sure to enjoy.

Get your copy now!

Here’s the complete Table of Contents.

Novellas

“Weather Duty” by Kristine Kathryn Rusch
“The Hidden God” by T.R. Napper
“Quantum Ghosts” (Part I) by Nancy Kress

Novelette

“On the Night Shift” by Zohar Jacobs

Short Stories

“My Heart a Streak of Light Across the Sky” by Samantha Murray
“Unidentified Aerial Phenomenon” by Donald McCarthy
“The Demon of Metrazol” by Ray Nayler
“The Mystery of My Death” by Rob Chilson
“A Brief History of the Afterlife” by Anthony Ha
“Cryptid or Your Money Back” by Misha Lenau

Poetry

Intergalactic Tanka by Anna Cates
After the Chemicals Decay by Claire McNerney
Now that I Have Found You by Robert Frazier
Learning Toy by Don Mark Baldridge
All the Space We Have Left by Marisca Pichette
Hourglass by Greg Schwartz

Departments

Editorial: Magnifique! Redux by Sheila Williams
Reflections: The Naming of Names by Robert Silverberg
On the Net: Spacecraft of the Mind by James Patrick Kelly
Next Issue
On Books by Norman Spinrad

Analog, Asimov’s Science Fiction and The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction are available wherever magazines are sold, and at various online outlets. Buy single issues and subscriptions at the links below.

Asimov’s Science Fiction (208 pages, $8.99 per issue, one year sub $47.97 in the US) — edited by Sheila Williams
Analog Science Fiction and Fact (208 pages, $8.99 per issue, one year sub $47.97 in the US) — edited by Trevor Quachri
The Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction (256 pages, $10.99 per issue, one year sub $65.94  in the US) — edited by Sheree Renée Thomas

The March-April issues of Asimov’s and Analog were on sale until April 8. See our coverage of the January-February issues here, and all our recent magazine coverage here.

Readers of my weekly column (both of you) know that I quite enjoying giving my opinion on a wide range of topics. I’ll cut the normal ten down to five this time, but it’s been two months since I’ve expounded thus. And that’s at least one month too long, right? So…

So, I think that:

1) DAREDEVIL IS EXCELLENT

I didn’t like the Ben Affleck Daredevil movie back in 2003. Or the associated 2005 Elektra movie with Jennifer Garner. And a blind, lawyer, vigilante, just didn’t appeal to me. I’d never read any of the comics, so no nostalgia tie, either.

I skipped the three-season streaming series which dropped back in 2015. And after trying a couple episodes of Jennifer Jones, I passed on the whole The Defenders thing.

For some reason, I decided to watch the first episode of the new reboot, Daredevil: Reborn. Don’t know why, but I did. And man, it was terrific!!! I did the three episodes which had dropped, and I was hooked. I went back and just finished watching season one of the original series. Wow! I’ve started season two.

This show is darker than what I like to watch. And the lighting and visual tone reflects the emotional vibe. Which is in tune with a blind vigilante, I guess. But this is one of my favorite Marvel streaming series (no timeline nonsense probably helps).

And Vincent D’Onofrio as Kingpin is a home run. I liked his appearance at the end of Hawkeye. But he was a MASSIVE disappointment in Echo (as was that show itself). He was emasculated and was a touchy-feely wimp; nothing like the Kingpin I am discovering in Daredevil, and Reborn.

This was a totally unexpected surprise, and I’m really enjoying my discovery of the original show. And Charlie Cox is another actor I had no idea was British, as I watched him (Hugh Laurie, and Marsha Thomason, are two more).

2) YOU SHOULD READ JOHN MADDOX ROBERTS’ SPQR SERIES

I’ve talked about this in a couple prior posts. Roberts wrote eight of the Tor Conan books, and he’s easily one of the best – if not THE best – of the authors in that series. His Conan the Rogue is an homage to Dashiell Hammett, and my favorite Conan pastiche.

From 1990 through 2010, he wrote thirteen historical mysteries set in Ancient Rome. SPQR (Senatus Populusque Romanus – The Roman Senate and People) feature Decius Caecilus Metellus telling stories from his life, written during Caesar’s reign.

Many Romans of the time, like Cicero, Pompey, and Crassus, are characters in the stories. I think Roberts does a fantastic job of creating Ancient Rome for the reader. I don’t believe he was too free with making up things. I feel like we’re getting a pretty good look at the time.

Decius essentially solves a murder as a function of his government position at the time (they change over the years), each novel. Sadly, Roberts passed away in May of last year, and I did not start the series until shortly after that. I just finished the thirteenth and final audiobook – and I immediately went back and started the first book again, The King’s Gambit. This has become one of my favorite series’.

John Lee is the PERFECT narrator for the novels, and he reads all of them. I enjoyed listening to him narrating every single one.

There are eight short stories, which I would really like to see someone collect and put out together. I have not read any of them, so I’m kinda excited at the thought even though I’ve read all the novels, there’s still a little more SPQR out there for me.

I’ve read that he had been working on a fourteenth novel over the years. I’d certainly like to see someone with the skills, to complete it.

I like a good historical novel, but I’m more likely to read Jack Higgins, or Len Deighton. I read fantasy, not ancient history fiction (Scott Oden’s Men of Bronze is superb). But I am hooked on these and will be listening to the entire thing twice in less than a year. Check out that first novel – read or listen – and treat yourself.

3) WHEN YOU DON’T LIKE THE NARRATOR OF AN AUDIOBOOK…

I mentioned in #2 that John Lee is the perfect narrator for the SQPR books. I’ve commented a before on a couple audiobooks where the narrator ruined them for me: Even made them unlistenable.

I have been spacing out Steven Erikson’s Malazan series for well over a decade. Maybe two. I like it. But it’s deep and complex. And it’s dark. I have to be in a certain mood. I’d been on book eight, Toll of the Hounds, for several years.

I’ve talked about how audiobooks let me get to things I wouldn’t have time for, otherwise. I grabbed book eight and nine on an Audible sale. Toll of the Hounds is 44 hours long!!!

And quite frankly, I don’t like Michael Page’s narration. The whole thing feels there was a Malazan reading by the inhabitants of a senior center. Hey – I’m 58. I’m old. But 44 hours of listening to a reader you don’t like, is HARD. I still have 16 hours left.

I will finish this because I want to read the entire Malazan series. I like Ian C. Esslemont’s Malazan books as well, and I like the ones I listened to by John Banks. I wish he had read Erikson’s.

I will probably try to find the time to read book nine (I have the paperback). But reading a single 1,200 page paperback – especially a ‘heavy’ one, just isn’t on my radar these days. Even an okay narrator is workable. But when you don’t actually like the reader, it’s quite the uphill slog.

4) SHOHEI OTANI IS A THE RARE BASEBALL POP CULTURE ICON

We are used to pop icons in our culture. They change over time, of course. Whatever you may think of Taylor Swift, she is larger than life. Seventy-ish years ago, The Beatles conquered the world. It seems like it’s more likely to be a singer, than an actor, these days. Tiger Woods, Lebron James – athletes can enter this realm as well.

Baseball players don’t really hit this stratosphere. Babe Ruth was certainly one. Derek Jeter had a bright spotlight, but not Taylor Swift level. Shohei Otani is an elite baseball player. He’s recovering from an arm injury, but he is both a Cy Young caliber pitcher, and he rewrote the offense record books ls year, when he couldn’t pitch. He’s more than a generational player – he’s a century one.

But he is THE icon in Japan. People gather together in the morning, to watch Dodgers games, in Japan. MLB sent the Dodgers and Cubs to Tokyo for two official games, a few weeks before ‘regular’ Opening Day in America. Reading reports about the trip, Ohtani in Japan is like Swift in America. He is a larger than life celebrity. Ohtani is a huge star here in America, but baseball has continued to be less popular than football, and basketball. Opening week is competing with March Madness right now. But Ohtani is the biggest name in baseball. In Japan, he’s a superstar.

Fortnite rolled out an Ohtani skin last week (I bought it!). He’s in his Dodgers uniform, and he’s a baseball-themed samurai. Watching the US opener the other night, they showed the Fortnite skin on the TV Screen, and when he came up to bat, they called him Mr. Fortnite.

Shohei Otani is one of the few players that’s bigger than the game. And in Japan, he could not be a bigger cultural star.

5) CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD WAS WELL DONE

Hey Marvel – you can make a good movie that’s only two hours long. Thanks for actually trying it. The latest Captain America movie wasn’t fluffed out. The story was tight a just under two hours, and it didn’t feel like an effort to get all the way through.

It was a sequel to the Edward Norton Hulk (which I had never bothered to watch. Not a prerequisite, but I did watch it after, and it would have helped some. It also built out a bit from the The Falcon and the Winter Soldier.

This wasn’t ‘the biggest’ Avengers-related movie. But it was a good one. I’d like to see more shorter, focused, flicks. It had been out a month when I saw it, and my son and I were the ONLY people in the theater on a weekday afternoon. Those factors considered, I was still pretty surprised. We’re talking a Marvel movie.

6) THUNDERBOLTS LOOKS LIKE LOADS OF FUN

I don’t know anything about this group, other than the bits the movies and ‘extra scenes’ were dropping, as Julia Louis-Dreyfuss was up to something. I saw the trailer when I watched the new Captain America. Oh man, this movie looks FUN! I totally enjoyed the trailer, and my son and I will be seeing this in the theater. I’m really looking forward to it.

In fact, this trailer was far more enticing than the one for the new Fantastic Four movie. Which, frankly, looked boring. I’ve written here that I enjoyed the Jessica Alba Fantastic Four movie more than most of my friends. The sequel was meh, but still okay.

I will probably watch the new one – I still haven’t bothered with the 2015 version – at home. But the trailer didn’t intrigue me at all. I forgot it as soon as I saw Thunderbolts. Scarlett Johansson in the new Jurassic Park movie looked way better than The Fantastic Four.

Prior Ten Things I Think I Think

Ten Things I Think I Think (January 2025)
Ten Things I Think I Think (December 2024)
Nine Things I Think I Think (October 2024)
Five More Things I Think: Marvel Edition (September 2024)
Ten Things I Think I Think: Marvel Edition ( September 2024)
Five Things I Think I Think (January 2024)
Seven Things I Think I Think (December 2023)
Talking Tolkien: TenThings I Think I Think (August 2023)
A (Black) Gat in the Hand: Ten Things I Think I think (August 2023)
5 More Things I Think (March 2023)
10 Things I Think I Think (March 2023)

Bob Byrne’s ‘A (Black) Gat in the Hand’ made its Black Gate debut in 2018 and has returned every summer since.

His ‘The Public Life of Sherlock Holmes’ column ran every Monday morning at Black Gate from March, 2014 through March, 2017. And he irregularly posts on Rex Stout’s gargantuan detective in ‘Nero Wolfe’s Brownstone.’ He is a member of the Praed Street Irregulars, founded www.SolarPons.com (the only website dedicated to the ‘Sherlock Holmes of Praed Street’).

He organized Black Gate’s award-nominated ‘Discovering Robert E. Howard’ series, as well as the award-winning ‘Hither Came Conan’ series. Which is now part of THE Definitive guide to Conan. He also organized 2023’s ‘Talking Tolkien.’

He has contributed stories to The MX Book of New Sherlock Holmes Stories — Parts III, IV, V, VI, XXI, and XXXIII.

He has written introductions for Steeger Books, and appeared in several magazines, including Black Mask, Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine, The Strand Magazine, and Sherlock Magazine.

You can definitely ‘experience the Bobness’ at Jason Waltz’s ’24? in 42′ podcast.

Blackmark by Archie Goodwin and Gil Kane (Bantam Books, January 1971). Cover by Gil Kane

As I’ve mentioned before, I didn’t grow up with comics. They weren’t available in my small, rural town of Charleston, Arkansas in the 1960s and 70s. The first store to carry them appeared around ’74 and had a small spinner rack with a dozen or so titles. By then I was already reading regular books and the comics, while they had interesting art, had much less story than books. I bought a few but never got hooked and knew virtually nothing about any comics creator.

As an adult in my fifties, I watched a movie called The Watchmen, which was very good, and I bought the original graphic novel by Alan Moore. I was blown away by the complex storytelling and started buying other graphic novels. I finally started to learn about some of the great comic book creators over the years. I still don’t consider myself a comic book reader but I keep an eye out for items that might interest me. That’s how, in 2019, I found a cool little book called Blackmark, “by Gil Kane.”

Interior pages from Blackmark. Art by Gil Kane

Gil Kane (1926 – 2000) was born in Latvia as Eli Katz but immigrated with his family to the US at about 3. He lived in Brooklyn and started working in comics at an early age. By 16, he’d found full-time employment and quit high school.

Marvel Preview #17, containing the sequel, Blackmark: The Mind Demons (Marvel Comics, Winter 1979). Cover art by Romas Kukalis

He’s best known for helping create Green Lantern and Iron Fist, none of which I’ve ever read. In 1971, working with a scripter named Archie Goodwin, he created Blackmark (from Bantam), one of the earliest graphic novels. It’s set on a post-apocalyptic Earth and is more sword & sorcery than sword & planet, but it has that exotic S&P feel I crave.

From what I understand, Kane created the setting and characters and did all the art. He provided an outline for the script to Goodwin, who then did the writing. Each page has an illustration or two with squares of story around them. There’s a lot of story, which I appreciated.

Interiors from the Marvel Preview #17. Art by Gil Kane

The art is great but the script is just wonderful. It’s way over the top sword and sorcery prose and I enjoyed it tremendously. Here’s a taste:

Blackmark awoke to shrill, inhuman cries. Dawn had brought new horror on flapping wings.

I highly recommend Blackmark to readers of S&P fiction.

Charles Gramlich administers The Swords & Planet League group on Facebook, where this post first appeared. His last article for Black Gate was The Sword & Planet Tales of Ralph Milne Farley.

The Vatican Tapes (Lionsgate, July 24, 2015) The Vatican Tapes (2015) – Prime

Imagine my excitement when I read that Mark Nelvedine (The Crank movies, Ghost Rider: Spirit of Vengeance, Gamer) had made an exorcism flick. This was bound to be bonkers!

Oh, foolish lamb that I am.

This limp rag of a horror film had all the bite of a blob fish, and half the appeal. In order to hit that sweet PG-13 demographic, the film has been neutered to such an extent that it was virtually blood-free. Any onscreen nastiness takes place with the victim’s back to the camera, and none of it is helped by illogical editing choices.

It’s a waste of talent too — Dougray Scott, Michael Peña and Djimon Hounsou plod through the proceedings with all the enthusiasm of a 7th-grader getting a vaccine shot, and the poor young woman who is the subject of their attention is played by Olivia Taylor Dudley, who I can only presume was asked if she could do a Kristen Stewart face.

Boring.

4/10

The Convent (Alpine Pictures, January 22, 2000)
and Late Night with the Devil (IFC Films/Shudder, March 22, 2024)

The Convent (2000) – Tubi

Some nuns and a priest are fussing around an alter when suddenly a cool-looking chick bursts in and starts whaling on them with a baseball bat, before finishing them off with a shotgun.

Okay movie, you have my attention.

Unfortunately, the rest of the flick doesn’t live up to this intro, although it’s a fairly fun attempt to conjure up the daft delights of 80s demon films. A bunch of frat yoots are determined to break into an old, deserted convent and tag it before the other frat houses. They are also hoping to smoke some of the devil’s leaf, and perhaps partake in some heavy fondling. Unfortunately, they inadvertently awaken the spirits of unholy nuns, who promptly possess them and go on a rampage. It’s up to the original nun-knocker from 20 years ago, Adrienne Barbeau, to go all Terminator 2 on the holy horrors.

It’s very silly, occasionally messy, and mostly neon, as the demons were all shot under UV lights.

Megahn Perry was a highlight as Mo, a goth who totally looks like a 19-yr-old Olivia Colman in black lipstick. She was good, as was a Bill Mosely cameo, and Coolio acting ‘extremely’ normal.

It’s not brilliant, but it’s not awful either.

6/10

Late Night with the Devil (2024) – Prime (Shudder)

Let’s get the drama out of the way first. Lots of folks over on Xitter claimed they were boycotting this film due to its (minimal) use of A.I. images. I appreciate their stance, however, it’s difficult as all hell to get an indie horror made these days (exhibit A: the several hundred production logos at the beginning), and boycotting this one just hurts the hundreds of other crew-members who had no hand in the decision.
Sure, go ahead and be very disappointed, but to boycott it means you won’t get to see a terrific concept nicely put together.

Current horror darling, David Dastmalchian, is perfect in the role of a late-night host who can’t quite match the ratings of the great Johnny Carson (this is set in 1977). His beloved wife has recently died, the sweeps are nigh, and he’s desperate for a decent show. Tonight’s Halloween spectacular might be the last gasp for Night Owls. Jack Delroy, along with his sidekick, Gus, have invited a half-rate psychic, a James Randi type, and the subjects of possession research, June, the researcher, and Lily, the possessed. As you might guess, it all goes horribly wrong.

The film opens with narration (Michael Ironside!) to bring us up to speed, and then presents the show in its entirety, threaded with behind the scene footage. I loved the concept and the slow build-up, and the general aesthetic was spot on. I’ve seen a lot of reviews from yoots saying it’s ‘mid’, but I think it really helps if you grew up watching the late shows of the 70s and 80s.

Recommended.

9/10

The Exorcism of God (Saban Films, September 27, 2021) The Exorcism of God (2021) – Tubi

I wasn’t expecting much from this Mexican/US production, mostly because I’d never heard of it, but it was a pleasant surprise.

The director, Alejandro Hidalgo, get all of the cliches out of the way in the first few minutes, including a totally unsubtle Exorcist shot, yellow eyes, shaky beds, psychosexual taunting, inexperienced priest, etc etc. However, this story has more to offer than the usual schtick we get in these films.

This time, the priest hides a very dark secret that stems from the initial exorcism, a secret that rears up again 18 years later when he is exalted as a ‘saint’ for saving a Mexican village. Father Peter is a really interesting, conflicted character, and I liked Will Beinbrink’s portrayal of the tortured soul very much. In fact, it’s well acted all round and beautifully shot, although it relies a bit too heavily on jump scares, which were unnecessary.

Plenty of atmosphere, lots of creepiness and a genuinely ghastly plot. Recommended.

8/10

Evil Dead Rise (Warner Bros. Pictures, April 21, 2023)
and Exorcism at 60,000 Feet (Shout! Studios, August 9, 2019)

Evil Dead Rise (2023) – Crave

Curse me and my self-imposed rules. I wanted to watch this one last year, but I knew I was doing this possession project after the Tubi one, so I had to wait. It was worth it!

If Fede Álvarez’s Evil Dead in 2013 was the gritty embodiment of Raimi’s original, then this follow-up, written and directed by Lee Cronin, is a pitch-perfect take on the sensibilities of Evil Dead II. You can tell that Raimi, Tapert and Campbell were part of the production, because even though Rises is darker and bloodier, as befits a modern version, it is struck through with subversive humour. That’s the weird thing about the Evil Dead franchise — I can’t think of another film series that I gleefully watch as it inflicts so much ghastliness on decent people . It’s somewhat perverse.

The theme and storyline, with its focus on family, is quite disturbing, and yet there are several sequences that had me silently whooping; the carnage watched through a peephole, finding the right pot size to put a deadite down, and an eyeball gag straight out of the Raimi playbook. Once all the possessed are chanting ‘dead by dawn!’ and souls are threatened with a good swallowing, you know that the good old days are back.

That’s not to take anything away away from Cronin. I think he’s done a stellar job here; its a well-crafted story and it looks great. The stand-out for me was Lily Sullivan, and I would totally watch the hell out of an Evil Dead series featuring her chainsaw-toting Beth.

Brilliant stuff.

10/10

Exorcism at 60,000 Feet (2019) – Tubi

A priest (Father Romero), played very well by Robert Miano, turns up at a house, poses à la The Exorcist at the front door, barges in and shoots a demon in the head (Bill Mosely, shaggy as ever) with a crucifix gun. So far, so good. The homeowner snaps out of his own demonic possession, sees his dead wife and screams in anguish. Then he wanders off into the shadows, looking for the rest of his family, crying ‘Oh God’ every time he finds one, his voice getting more horrified with each new discovery.

Utterly disturbing and heartbreaking, and yet it is played for the darkest of laughs, and God help me, I smiled. Then, as the priest manhandles the demon’s body into the back of a hearse, Richard Band kicks in with one of his patented sound-alike scores, and blow me down if it isn’t the music from Airplane! So this is where we are going.

What follows is a uniquely offensive exercise in attempted Zucker Brothers style comedy on a trans-pacific flight (via Viet Kong, no less) with some demonic gore thrown in. For the most part, the over-the-top comedy doesn’t work (I wish they had stuck to the blacker than pitch humor of the opening), but the ludicrousness belts along lickety-split, and there are definitely a couple of moments that made me chortle.

Here’s a list of the crew and passengers just in case you think they missed out on an opportunity to upset anyone.

• Captain Houdee (aha!) the alcoholic pilot played by Lance Henrikson made up as Sully,
• Kevin J. O’Conner (who I’ve missed terribly) as the dozing co-pilot,
• Bai Ling (The Crow) and Matthew Moy (2 Broke Girls) as the racially stereotyped flight crew (Ling’s character is transsexual to boot, which wasn’t handled as badly as you might expect, but still the butt of a few jokes),
• A woman who has a golden glow emanating from her hoohah like Marsellus Wallace’s briefcase,
• An adult dwarf with Tourette’s who breastfeeds off Kelly Maroney (Night of the Comet),
• A Hasidic Jew played by Robert Rhine (one of the writers),
• A body builder,
• A pregnant woman,
• A guy who takes advantage of the pregnant woman while she is unconscious (really?),
• Adrienne Barbeau with a dead service dog,
• A deaf and mute guy who does nothing,
• A pair of nuns who get naked and then get it on,
• A Sopranos extra,
• A Tibetan holy man,
• A messy mile high club attempt,
• tampon gags,
• fart gags,
• and Bai Ling caked in makeup being told to crank it up to 26 and scream every line.

There’s also pea soup, Twilight Zone references and plenty of gore.

It would be easy to dismiss this one, but I think it’s perfect for the very very drunk or very very stoned, or for those with no moral hang-ups, and at the risk of eternal damnation, I’m going to recommend it just to you. You know who you are.

6/10

Previous Murkey Movie surveys from Neil Baker include:

What Possessed You? — Part 1
Fan of the Cave Bear
There, Wolves
What a Croc
Prehistrionics
Jumping the Shark
Alien Overlords
Biggus Footus
I Like Big Bugs and I Cannot Lie
The Weird, Weird West
Warrior Women Watch-a-thon

Neil Baker’s last article for us was Part I of What Possessed You? Neil spends his days watching dodgy movies, most of them terrible, in the hope that you might be inspired to watch them too. He is often asked why he doesn’t watch ‘proper’ films, and he honestly doesn’t have a good answer. He is an author, illustrator, outdoor educator and owner of April Moon Books (AprilMoonBooks.com).

Tor Doubles

In October of 1988, Tor Books released the first Tor Double, a volume that reprinted Arthur C. Clarke’s 1971 novella Meeting with Medusa with Kim Stanley Robinson’s novella Green Mars. Over the next thirty-five months, they would publish a total of thirty-six books in the series.

In general, there was little to link the two short stories that were published in each volume, although in 1990, Tor experimented with the publication of four Tor Doubles that included a classic story, by authors including C.L. Moore, L. Sprague de Camp, Leigh Brackett, and Roger Zelazny, with original stories that were set in the same world. The following year would see addition original stories published in the series.

Similarly, most of the volumes contained stories by two different authors, however four of the books published in 1991 were single author collections, with two stories each by Gordon R. Dickson, Mike Resnick, Damon Knight, and Fritz Leiber.

Modeled after the Ace Doubles series, the books were initially published in a dos-a-dos format, with each story getting its own cover and bound upside down in relation to the other book, so neither story was first (although the presence of an ISBN code on one side had a tendency to make it feel like the “back” of the book). The four volumes that included sequels were published with a single cover and beginning with volume 27, which included Orson Scott Card’s Eye for Eye and Lloyd Biggle, Jr.’s The Tunesmith, all the volumes were published in the more traditional format.

A Mosaic of Tor Doubles covers

The Clarke/Robinson volume was not, actually the first Tor Double, although it states “Tor Double #1” on the cover for the Clarke story. In 1981, Tor published Keith Laumer’s novel The House in November with a “special bonus: complete short novel” The Other Sky as part of their “Jim Baen Presents” series When the book was reprinted in 1985, the two stories were printed in the dos-a-dos format with the words “Tor Double” appearing on both sides.

Although the final volume in the series, a collection of Fritz Leiber’s novels Conjure Wife and Our Lady of Darkness was published in August of 1991, there was at least one more volume scheduled to see print, although it was never published. Instead, Esther M. Friesner’s Yesterday, We Saw Mermaids was published as a stand-alone novel by Tor in 1992 and Lawrence Watt-Evans’ The Final Folly of Captain Dancy was first published by Tor at the back of their printing of his novel The Rebirth of Wonder (along with an excerpt for Watt-Evans and Friesner’s collaboration Split Heirs) and was later included in his collection Crosstime Traffic.

The series includes works by 51 authors (including two collaborations). Sixteen authors are represented by multiple stories, with eight appearing twice (half of those in single author volumes), six appearing three times, Fritz Leiber having four stories in the series (once in a single author volume), and Robert Silverberg having five stories.

Although there were only a handful of original stories published in the Tor Doubles series, many of the works selected to be reprinted were award nominees and winners. The series included 33 Hugo nominated works and 17 winners and 27 Nebula nominated stories and 16 winners. Robinson’s A Short Sharp Shock was nominated for a Hugo Award for the year it appeared in the series, although it had previously been published by Mark V. Zeising and Asimov’s.

Over the next thirty-nine weeks, I intend to look at the books published (or not published, as the case may be) as part of this series.

Steven H Silver is a twenty-time Hugo Award nominee and was the publisher of the Hugo-nominated fanzine Argentus as well as the editor and publisher of ISFiC Press for eight years. He has also edited books for DAW, NESFA Press, and ZNB. His most recent anthology is Alternate Peace and his novel After Hastings was published in 2020. Steven has chaired the first Midwest Construction, Windycon three times, and the SFWA Nebula Conference numerous times. He was programming chair for Chicon 2000 and Vice Chair of Chicon 7.

They Mostly Pod Out at Night, Mostly, hosted by Graveyard and Salem

One of the best parts of my Black Gate side hustle is the cool people we get to meet, and there’s nothing more exciting than connecting with those who are most definitely “our people.” I am embarrassed to admit that the Fall Days of the Dead show in Chicago last November was my first encounter with the geniuses behind the podcast They Mostly Pod Out at Night, Mostly, who go by the monikers Graveyard and Salem. And after all, who doesn’t love an Aliens reference?

​They Mostly Pod Out at Night, Mostly is a weekly podcast dedicated to all things horror. Each episode features in-depth discussions, covering a range of topics from classic and contemporary horror films to broader themes within the genre. The hosts provide insightful analysis, engaging reviews, and lively conversations that appeal to both casual viewers and die-hard horror enthusiasts. Their passion for horror is on full display as they explore the intricacies of various movies, offering listeners a comprehensive understanding of the genre’s evolution and impact.

Since meeting them in November I’ve become a regular listener, discovering yet another dark and intriguing corner of the horror subculture, and last night I had the honor of being a guest.

Honestly, I had mixed feelings about doing this. Though I loved what I had seen since becoming a fan of TMPOaNM, I am far more comfortable behind the keyboard than in front of a webcam. I have my own horrors of freezing up or saying something stupid, not to mention the fact that for all my many years at Black Gate I have determinedly remained out of any pictures or videos associated with Goth Chick News.

Still, the draw was strong, and the host “Graveyard” (aka Matt Van Bodegraven) went to great lengths to make me feel comfortable. He had done his homework on Black Gate and Goth Chick News so the whole event really felt like “coffee between friends” as he promised.

Check it…

​For his part, Van Bodegraven is a multifaceted figure in the indie horror genre, recognized for his work as a writer, director, actor, as well as podcast creator and co-host. In the realm of filmmaking, Van Bodegraven has contributed to several projects. He is known for The Murder of the Monster (2024), The Ruck March (2025) as well as Vampyre and Tahoe Joe 3: Concrete Wilderness both in pre-production.

He is also the producer of the upcoming ‘found footage’ horror film The Fairfield County Four, directed and written by Joshua Brucker for Horror Dadz Productions.

The Fairfield County Four (Eye4Eye Productions/Gray Sky Pictures)

The narrative follows four individuals — Emma Grove, Amy Hanson, Randy Farris, and Peter Moore — as they venture into the Connecticut woods to investigate the legend of the Wolf of Fairfield County. Their subsequent disappearance leads to the discovery of their recovered footage, unveiling the chilling events they encountered.

As of now, The Fairfield County Four is in pre-production, with filming anticipated to commence in April 2025 and a release date yet to be announced. However, Van Bodegraven did promise to keep me updated so I can tell you all about the process of bringing an indie film to life. For a glimpse into the eerie atmosphere, you can watch the campaign teaser below:

While we wait, definitely check out They Mostly Pod Out at Night, Mostly, for entertaining insights into the horror genre. A huge thank you to Graveyard and Salem for creating such a memorable experience, and one that is truly unique in the Goth Chick universe.

Black Gate photog Chris Z and I are off to the spring version of Days of the Dead on Friday, so watch this space.

Social interaction is a minefield, isn’t it? Whether it’s gathering with the family for the holidays, relating to people at the workplace, or making small talk with the checker at the supermarket, any encounter with other people, no matter how casual or seemingly benign, is fraught with uncertainty and even, sometimes, menace. That may be why such interactions have so often been depicted as a form of combat. (It may also be why the trend towards “contactless” social transactions that reached warp speed with the advent of COVID isn’t going anywhere, but just continues to gain ground even as the Coronavirus era recedes.)

Of all the opportunities for social victory and defeat, triumph and humiliation, the party may be the most hazardous, but no party has ever been such an ordeal as the one endured by the hapless dinner guests in Luis Buñuel’s merciless 1962 nightmare, The Exterminating Angel (in its original Spanish, El ángel exterminador).

Filmed in Mexico and set in a “wealthy district” in an unnamed country (Roger Ebert declares that it’s Spain and that the movie is an attack on the regime of Francisco Franco, but I know of no statement by Buñuel that places the film so specifically or that defines its meaning so narrowly), The Exterminating Angel is the blackest of black comedies; I have no doubt that it would have made the chap who invented the rack and thumbscrews giggle uncontrollably.

Buñuel was one of the original cinematic surrealists, beginning his career in the mid 1920’s and earning his first fame — or notoriety — with two films made in collaboration with Salvador Dalí: that bane of unsuspecting college film students, Un Chien Andalou (1929), with its sudden, shock shot of an eye being sliced open by a razor blade (it was actually a cow’s eye) and 1930’s L’Age d’Or, which provoked scandal and rioting with its unbridled attacks on the Catholic Church.

Buñuel spent the next three decades bouncing between his native Spain, the United States, Mexico, and France, all the while producing work that was unconventional, to say the least. This period culminated with The Exterminating Angel, a film which inaugurated his final and greatest phase, a period which saw him produce his subversive masterpieces Belle de Jour, The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, The Phantom of Liberty, and That Obscure Object of Desire.

The Exterminating Angel opens on a beautiful and tranquil night on the Calle de la Providencia, an elegant, upper-class street, as Edmundo Nóbile (Enrique Rambal) and his wife Lucia (Lucy Gallardo) return from an evening at the opera, bringing with them seventeen guests, artists and professional people whom they have invited to join them for a post-performance dinner party. As the gay and sparkling group walks in the luxurious mansion’s front door, the Nóbile’s large domestic staff is rushing out the back; spurred by some obscure impulse that they scarcely understand, cooks, maids, and servers all flee into the night with no intention of ever returning.

Soon the only ones left are several sheep and a bear that the hostess is planning to use for some strange and never-to-be-enacted entertainment, and the Nóbile’s butler, Julio (Claudio Brook), whose total identification with his employers apparently inoculates him against the “running sickness” that is affecting the other servants.

The festivities begin in the time-honored way — the guests sit around the huge table, and oozing well-mannered malice, lean toward their neighbors and cheerfully gossip about the other people at the party, the sexual proclivities and perversions of their “friends” being an especially popular topic. (Other people’s medical conditions are also freely discussed, and an army colonel casually confides to the woman next to him that he doesn’t give a damn about the Fatherland he ostensibly serves.)

After Julio has served the meal, the group repairs to the spacious drawing room, which is only separated from the dining room by an open archway (which looks suspiciously like a theater proscenium), where one of the guests entertains everyone by playing a classical piano piece. More socializing ensues, masks of politesse and good breeding barely concealing the contempt and jealousy that lie beneath. (More than the usual spite and backbiting are hiding behind the polished social surface, however; during the piano recital, a woman opens her purse and has to dig beneath its other contents to reach her handkerchief. What has this elegant society lady brought with her? Lipstick and a compact? No, the feathers and feet of a chicken, the elements of a Cabbalistic ritual.) Finally, as the hour grows late, the partygoers begin to gather coats and purses, in preparation for their leave-taking. Only…

No one leaves. A few people hesitantly walk up to the archway leading to the dining room, which they must pass through in order to reach the cavernous entry hall and the front door, but they pause at the threshold, seemingly unable to take a step further. They stand bemused, expressions of confusion and even fear flickering across their faces, like skydivers at the door of an airplane who suddenly realize that they’re not wearing parachutes (or people standing at the brink of “The undiscovered country from whose bourn / No traveler returns”, perhaps?) They mutter a few weak justifications for staying just a little longer, and retreat back into the drawing room.

It soon becomes obvious that no one is going to leave, as people settle down for the night on couches (the lucky ones), in chairs, or on the floor. At first, the Nóbiles are outraged at this shocking breach of etiquette, but when they realize that they too are powerless to walk out of the drawing room, they find their own places to bed down for the night.

In the morning, Julio wheels in a tray with some breakfast… and finds that he too cannot leave the drawing room, and the new day has brought no change for anyone else, either — no one can leave. The group fumblingly tries to figure out what is happening; almost as frustrating as their inability to leave the room is their inability to understand why they cannot leave the room. Dr. Carlos Conde (Augusto Benedicio), the party’s leading rationalist, counsels that only “dispassionate analysis” can solve the problem, but no one seems much interested in that approach, not that there’s any indication that it would work if they tried it. In the meantime, people are making what arrangements they can — a closet in which large ornamental vases are stored becomes the de facto bathroom, and a pair of young lovers finds another closet where they can be alone; Buñuel allows you to imagine for yourself exactly what they’re up to in there.

As the days pass, territory is staked out, accusations are made and recriminations are hurled, and hunger grows. The lower-class Julio takes to eating paper as he did when a schoolboy and recommends it to the others; it’s better than nothing. An ornamental axe is used to chop through the wall to get to a water pipe; anarchy briefly reigns when water spurts from the pipe, but order is quickly restored — ladies first.

As the prisoners wonder why no one has come to rescue them, we are able to see outside the mansion, where police and crowds of onlookers have gathered, powerless; the same strange force that prevents exit also prevents entrance.

Inside, some react with hysteria, some with lethargy; some fight to maintain hope, some give way to despair. Some people cling to rationality while others call on occult powers, seek help through Masonic rituals, or promise a special mass for their deliverance. All the while, death is a force to be reckoned with inside the house just as it on the outside; lacking his medication, one of the older guests who was in poor health dies after the first night. (Just before the end, he mutters, “I’m happy I won’t see the extermination.”) They put him in the lovers’ closet, which is only fitting, as the pair — who were to be married later in the week — eventually commit suicide together in their trysting place.

An overpowering stench from the improvised lavatory (and morgue) and sweaty, unwashed bodies soon makes the air in the crowded room fetid and foul, and though they can toss their trash into the dining room (despite not being able to enter it), after a few days the drawing room is a filthy, cluttered shambles. Under these conditions, the thin veneer of civilization flakes off as people grate against each other physically and emotionally. Insults and fists fly, and the last tattered remnants of civility begin to disintegrate.

When the erstwhile members of the upper crust are approaching the last extremity, starvation is fended off when the animals escape from the kitchen. While the bear roams the upper floors, emitting eerie moans and cries, the sheep providentially trot into the drawing room; whatever sardonic divinity presides over this hell, he is at least willing to provide manna for his erring children. A fire is made from smashed furniture and soon roast mutton is being devoured by people indistinguishable from their primitive ancestors, who also squatted around open fires, eagerly tearing meat off of bones with their teeth.

Full stomachs only sharpen the edge of the guests’ desire to escape their prison, however, and a group of women (among them the devotee of Kabbalah) begin to push the idea that only a sacrifice — a human one — will free them. Who should the victim be? Who better than their host, the man who got them all into this mess with his impertinent dinner party invitation, Edmundo Nóbile? (Who, it must be said, has lived up to his name by comporting himself with more dignity and self-control than almost anyone else.) Some oppose this move, the ever-reasonable doctor most prominent among them (for his pains, someone shouts that they should get rid of him too) and the two sides, those for human sacrifice and those against it, wind up wrestling in the middle of the ruined room.

Just as the pro-sacrifice faction seems to be getting the upper hand and someone is reaching for the same knife that was used on the sheep, Nóbile tells them all that it won’t be necessary — taking a pistol from a drawer, he says that he can easily solve their problem for them. But before he can use the gun on himself, one of the women, Leticia (the wonderful Silvia Pinal, a Buñuel regular) tells everyone to stop where they are — she has realized that are all in the exact same places they occupied when the nightmare began, countless ages ago. If everything is repeated — positions, music, words, gestures, might that not free them from this spell? (Buñuel has slyly prepared for this by repeating several shots in the film; for instance, the shot of the guests first entering the house, along with the accompanying dialogue, is shown twice in succession. The only difference is a slightly different camera angle. Buñuel claimed that there are about twenty of these repetitions in the film.)

Everyone (except the dead) exactly repositions themselves as they were that unlucky night. The last few bars of the piano piece are played, followed by the same words that were spoken, and the doors of the sorcerer’s castle (“after all, this is not a sorcerer’s castle” someone rashly declared after the first night) are miraculously unlocked, and the captives are free. They immediately sense that whatever was restraining them has disappeared, and they ecstatically rush out the front door to meet the people waiting outside, who are also now freed to run to meet them. (Even the servants are there, seemingly drawn back by the same force that impelled them to run away.)

The curse has been lifted and the evil dream can fade from memory as all dreams do.

Well, if you think that, you don’t know Luis Buñuel. Of course, this deliverance is illusory; the torture master has withdrawn the knife only to reinsert it, merely repositioning the blade for the final, fatal twist.

The last scene of The Exterminating Angel shows all the dinner guests, again clean and fresh, immaculately groomed and expensively dressed, gathered together in church along with hundreds of other worshippers, attending the special mass that they promised to celebrate if they were saved from their ordeal.

As the service ends and the bells toll, the priests start to walk out of the nave… and stop.

They cannot leave, and neither can anyone else; they all stand paralyzed, new captives and old alike unable to walk through the door in front of them, and not long afterward, as panic mounts inside the church, shouts are heard from the outside, where mounted police are clashing with a large crowd. Rioters or the merely curious? Does it matter? The disorder and chaos that leaked from the human heart into an elegant upper-class drawing room has now overflowed into the wider world, spreading through the streets like a plague.

But have no fear; the degraded human race, corrupt and corrupting, will be looked after. The final shot of this extraordinary film shows a large flock of sheep, placidly trotting through the doors of the church while the city outside echoes with screams and gunfire. FIN.

The Exterminating Angel is one of the greatest films ever made, bursting with resonant, unforgettably suggestive images — a bear climbing the pillar of a chandeliered hall, crying with what sounds like anguish; sheep roaming up the wide stairways and through the deserted rooms of a richly-appointed mansion; ragged people listlessly standing around in the shattered ruins of what was once an elegant drawing room, hopeless as damned souls in hell; Nóbile and Leticia sitting with a sheep between them — as Leticia blindfolds the animal and hands Nóbile a knife, the doomed creature tenderly lays its head on its executioner’s shoulder. (Buñuel later said he wished that he had left the animals out of the film, because then he would have been able to make his people resort to cannibalism. Fun guy, that Luis.) Though there are a few other works it brings to mind (Jean-Paul Sartre’s play No Exit, which came before the film, and J.G. Ballard’s novel High Rise and Jean–Luc Godard’s film Weekend, which came after) The Exterminating Angel is very much its own thing, a bracingly original achievement, a ticking time bomb placed under the padded chairs of the complacent.

What is the meaning of this savage allegory? Does it say that hypocrisy and malice constitute the irreducible baselines of human behavior? That the comfort and luxury that we almost all desire are nothing but degrading prisons? That life is defined by its frustrations? (Later, in The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie, Buñuel plays a variation on the impediment faced in the earlier film; in Discreet Charm the people of the privileged class can go where they want, but every time they sit down to dinner, something prevents them from eating; they are never allowed to complete a meal.) Does it say that the world is nothing but a desert island where we are all shipwrecked? (In 1954, Buñuel had filmed his own version of Robinson Crusoe.) Is it about the loss of belief that can suddenly undermine the most powerful regime? (Buñuel didn’t live to see the Soviet Union collapse overnight, but if he had, I can’t imagine that he would have been very surprised.) Is it a parody of the Book of Exodus? (When the Destroying Angel passed over Egypt, the Children of Israel couldn’t leave their houses.) Is it a monument to misanthropy, a horror movie in which the monsters are other people?

Hell, maybe if you could have administered a truth serum to the cagey Spaniard, he would have told you that the movie isn’t about the people at all — it’s about the sheep.

All respect to Roger Ebert, but whatever this singular film is, it has to be more than just a declaration that under Francisco Franco, Spain was oppressed by a corrupt and evil government. We know that already, and having grasped that fact, there’s nothing more to add. But The Exterminating Angel is deep enough to convey that specific meaning and many, many more. Like all the greatest works of art, it’s almost limitlessly expansive; it contains more and means more every time you see it. (Watching in 2025, it’s hard not to attach a meaning to it that it couldn’t have had for its director or original audience in 1962; the film works perfectly as an allegory of the anxiety and isolation of the COVID era.)

In watching this eccentric masterpiece, you may find yourself appalled, shocked into bitter laughter, filled with pity and dismay at the irremediably tainted human race and its benighted condition. What you won’t be is bored or dismissive; you’ll have no doubt that you’ve seen something absolutely unique and uncomfortably pertinent to the human dilemma, and you’ll find yourself turning it over and over in your mind long after the final credits have rolled, looking for a way out.

Really, what more could we poor, stupid sheep ask for?

Thomas Parker is a native Southern Californian and a lifelong science fiction, fantasy, and mystery fan. When not corrupting the next generation as a fourth grade teacher, he collects Roger Corman movies, Silver Age comic books, Ace doubles, and despairing looks from his wife. His last article for us was The Beating Heart of Science Fiction: Poul Anderson and Tau Zero